Give me those, papers, tobacco, filter, this
time after the war will never end. Dew, the morning chill,
this is how September starts, September
of second-hand citations.

You understand... or are you
too young? Then you can just watch now how
history continues while I'm making a roll-up, exactly
the same technique as ever.

The pears are over-ripe. A land rover, a man.
The pears just pattering down on
to the roof when he props his ladder up and climbs,
higher and higher.

Translated by Catherine Hales