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Poetry

for Bronisław Anlen

The stones are gathering

And who was supposed to come
Where there is stone upon stone
it’s because they’re familiar

Here a stone says
kaddish
with its weight
its multitude
and stones the place
in the painless grass

The stones are gathering

Here sometimes an old man
will lug inside him
feldspar quartz and burden
and a wisp of green
bloodied with a rose

He will place it exactly
anywhere and knowing
that he’s put it right into the hands
of his daughter Rachel
because here everywhere are the hands
of his daughter Rachel

And even if it’s Miriam who gets the flower
so be it she also deserves
a petal of memory
even by mistake

The old man goes away
A stone stands up

Translated from the Polish by Jennifer Grotz and Piotr Sommer


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