HELL丨Zbigniew Herber丨Short poems

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Poems 0085丨HELL丨By Zbigniew Herbert

Counting from the top: a chimney, antennae, a warped tin roof. Through a round window you see a girl trapped in threads whom the moon forgot to draw in and left to the mercy of gossipmongers and spiders. Farther down a woman reads a letter, cools her face with powder, and goes on reading. On the first floor a young man is walking back and forth thinking: how can I go outdoors with these bitten lips and shoes falling apart? The caf downstairs is empty; it′s still morning.

Just one couple in a corner. They are holding hands. He says: “We will always be together. Waiter, a black coffee and a lemonade, please.” The waiter goes behind the curtain and once there, bursts out laughing.

选自:
"The Collected Poems 1956-1998"
Publishied by HarperCollins 2007
Translated by ALISSA VALLES
Translated by CZESLAW MILOSZ

©2022 本文来自公众号:经典小诗丨网站:壹书库,永久链接:http://1ebook.store/4350.html

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