zofia beszczyńska

| wersja polska | english version | version française | versión española |


they make believe they are sleeping. Perhaps they sleep indeed.
They do not want to admit it. In this one a seal is lurking.
In that (white as an egg) a gull
perhaps. A turtle somewhere else. And this one
must be a piebald cow. A grey sheep.
I almost hear their voices the rustle of their fur
the clatter of their frozen hoofs.
They furtively open their eyes. Then
the stones sparkle. A discreet wave quickly
covers them with its soft palm

translated by Anna Staniewska

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