No. 7


Ewa Lipska 

Translated from the Polish by Ryszard Reisner 


In the town
where we were related
to the rush for happiness
bassoons, trombones and trumpets
took an early retirement.
The rest of the orchestra is dead.

Impossible to recall
the facts from that world.

On the streets there’s
an unregistered fear.
Growing old time future.

A hysteria of rain outside.
Plagiarism of our love.




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