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.
Berlin (Charlottenburg district) 44 Mommsen St. 1938
Translation, from German, of Mascha Kaléko’s “Das letztes Mal”.