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(The trees in the woods are balloting)
To N. Z.

And so, against the odds,
Death stares at my eyes.
Taking your word again
I'm voting that:
The door be just a door,
The latch be just a latch,
The dismal beast inside me
Turned into a heart;
One day the matter
Will be understood
What does it mean
Not sleeping for three years
And learning in the morning
Who died at night.
1940

Translated by Tatiana Pahlen
February 1, 2005

*N.Z. Nicolai Zabolotzky (It's my guess)

Copyright © 2005 Tatianyc. All Rights Reserved.