Wednesday, January 21, 2015

The last time

It seems you’ve gone. Your last word
still faintly clinking in my chamber:
the brittlelest shimmer lingered
some lovely hours. Gone, just the same.

Long have I known the sharp increment
of your faltering redoubt.
Long now, unbidden, have I sensed

you seeking my window out,

and often hear unspoken
some muted sinking phrase;
and often the familiar knocking

at the door. Gone, same as always.

Mascha Kaléko

Berlin (Charlottenburg district)
 44 Mommsen St.
Translation, from German, of Mascha Kaléko’s “Das letztes Mal”.