TRANSLATED FROM THE ROMANIAN BY LIDIA VIANU AND ANNE STEWART

Image Used For Representation

Preparatory

I pluck words
out of the poem
as stubbornly as
my grandfather used his axe
to shave slivers of wood
from a pole
till he sharpened it so well
that with only one blow
he could thrust it
between the wild boar’s ribs
into the wolf ’s
or the polecat’s belly

I cut whole lines
out of my poem
and then
word
after
word
after word
I sharpen
it
just like a pencil

Weather forecast

after the end
of a love affair
like an umbrella
life closes
till the next
rain

Your Place

God stretches out his hand
Incessantly

from where you are
you cannot be sure
whether he does that to ask
or to offer

A Bridge

I run away from big words
like a hamster’s soul escaping
running between the legs of a bed
in which a hungry baby unexpectedly
awakes

small words won’t grow
which is probably why I love them
and entice them
yet do not mind their refusal to come to me

actually
when the sheet of paper is in front of me
I expect nothing
just as all I expect
from a bridge
is to take me to the other side
or to collapse

Litany

Great God
how grateful I am that you are always
up there
so that I can cling
to You
from time to time

Also, read The Departed Wishes by Chandra Kishore Jayaswal, translated from the Hindi by Ayushee Arora, and published in The Antonym:

The Departed Wishes— Chandra Kishore Jayaswal

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