�����
For Ratriot
It
could be the first day, doesn�t matter,
�����������
if the wolves are howling again
and the night is creeping
�����������
like the day round about me,
round about my generation and
�����������
the next one and the next one and
the last one, until
those days no longer balance and neither documents
�����������
nor internal moments, far beyond
this life,
�����������
realities that once were, come,
go, are
symbols, lights, stars becoming visible and things,
�����������
people have marks, creep along
and
�����������
shadows testify, witnesses are
silent, say
�
����������� it�s
already happened
it could be the very last day, doesn�t matter
�����������
because the wolves are howling again and we can�t
hear them.
�
trans. Mark Kanak
