•  Letter from Grandpa

    A poem by Mediana Stan, translated by Rafael Manory 

     

    "Far from the village, past the s’eighs' traces
    Ice a little pool encases
    And the shrubs around it tie
    Hiding it from someone's eye. 

    Two mice skate on ice, pick up
    The dried berries in a cup 
    Their s’ate-coloured furs when run
    Catch the glimpses of the sun.

    They stop with paw on their hip 
    They quickly rub their face a bit.
    Branches strikes them, make them go 
    And they skate on ice in flow. 

    When the stars are shining bright 
    The mice remain frozen in the night 
    With the paws up in the air
    And heads leaned back, in a pair..."

    I last saw my grandpa a long time ago.  
    He has no idea how grown up I am now. 
    His far away village, he wants me to see
    Telling this story... would it be real or fantasy?

     

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