by Kristin Dimitrova
In the train
an old Hungarian
woman without
front teeth
told me that two
of her children
had died
and her oldest son
is now in America –
these are the photos,
there he is,
this is his family.
She smoked Bulgarian
cigarettes or rather
one very long
cigarette from Budapest
to Bucharest
and she said
‘Now I have
nothing to live for’.
Said it simply,
plainly, flatly,
with the dignity
of the toothless.
Trans. from the Bulgarian by Gregory O'Donoghue
From:
A Visit to the Clockmaker, Southword Editions, Ireland, 2005.
Copyright ©:
Kristin Dimitrova
Last updated October 02, 2011