MEMORY: FEAR

Day after day I fear more and more:
I am here, but I dream God knows how many times
I'll never be present.
Last night I got ready and waited.
We should've left around 7 a.m.
and we would have if everyone hadn't become hungry.
We prepared a hearty breakfast.
Lamb, pomegranates and fish
figs, wine and raki.
Then people wandered off
- everyone had forgotten something.

All of a sudden it got dark.
A thirsty rain fell
and my bag, left out in the street,
got soaked right to the inner baggage
so very wet
as befits its differentia specifica.
So wet from pain
that I sense everything in me
is inflamed and I get soaked further.
It's an understatement to say I am epically drenched.

When we did gather again
instead of departing
we found the car had broken down
we needed time to fix it
my sister said you're hungry have dinner
you don't go hungry on a journey
no way I said

I get desperate from eating all the time
when we have to travel we ruminate
when we have to travel.

In the meantime my sister gets busy
magically cultivating plants
she looks into them to see if we have a future
my marigolds have bloomed splendidly
they are still before my eyes open as the dawn
you will make mum and dad happiest
with your fortune she says
mum regained hope
and laughed for all of us
dad awakened from a dream he chose not to tell
and went to the spring
I didn't believe any of that although even now
I am uneasy when I think of her

if at least I could make use of the night
it seems the day is not enough
to get to the right place
I said and I felt
I was dealing with symbols

day after day fear gets hungrier
if I don't get scared I won't remember
what happened

fear is time
while I ponder in the dark
- if anything remains of me

it moves under my fingers
upright and revived.

Translated by Ilija Casule and Thomas Shapcott

© Katica Kulavkova, 2001-2007.
All rights reserved.