Author: Orsolya Kalasz
Translator: Catherine Hales
If I had a garden
if I had a garden
I wouldn’t mourn like this
I’d separate mourning from regret
it’s bad enough that I can’t get
the grass that covers graves
out of my head
this is much harder
I have no other choice
than to find a garden
bury my fingers in the earth
& wait for the grass of mourning
to take root deep in the earth
I want to mourn in my garden
& if permission comes from the depths of the earth
for me to ease my fingers out
my nails will be edged in black
by the inevitable
this too I am permitted by words
which permit my mourning everything
even not to want more time
as though I could predict how days
will take root in my forgetting