Yesterday
she met
with the past.
She was hoping
that she was gone into oblivion.
Now she knows that she will not be silent.
Those days still entice.
On a short, one-way
—like life—street
she wanted to see an old house
with a wall that was marked
by her love.
Someone was renovating the façade.
He painted over the signs
and shouted from above:
do not worry, it’ll be fine!
The same words she has heard before,
but
this voice sounded different:
do not worry, it’ll be fine.
On the wall
of a townhouse without a future
there was no more sign of time.
On a short, one-way
—like life—street
one can paint over words,
but there is no paint
for erasing memory.
[Translated by Artur Komoter]
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