Every morning I used to run to the adjacent
cemetery in order to
scatter the fragments of dreams
and unpleasant smells that collected overnight,
gathered in my mouth and
in that place in my body where I suspect
the soul lies dormant
it was a strange cemetery — the Catholics,
the godless and the orthodox gathered at one end
at the other — only Jews, though reading
what was inscribed on the headstones it's hard to believe
that for them the Torah was life's most important
book
one day the cemetery was divided by a hideous
concrete block wall
I liked cemeteries — the fear of death
encourages one to get to know it all the more intimately and not
to run away
when the wall appeared I began to avoid
visiting there
the dead that don't speak to each other are more appalling
than the living who strangle one another

Translated by Medeine Tribinevicius