Volume 15 No. 2 (2020): April

- THE ARCHAEOLOGY OF HOPE

Looking for who knows what, I stumbled upon a set of silverware sunk to the bottom of the last box with things no longer needed. It does not fit in with anything in my kitchen or in my life except an old fancy of my mother regarding my future. Translated by Omer Hadžiselimović  

- NO NEED

to balance one’s accounts, friend, for every grain in the hourglass falls in its place anyhow. What used to hurt is now foreign: it had gone by like a movie on the screen while we, munching on pumpkin seeds, sat comfortably reclined in our dreams. But when the lights came back on after the show, a heavy feeling would remain:  []

- THOSE DAYS

it was such a winter that swans’ webbings were getting stuck to the frozen Vltava. And they could never fly away from my memory. Just like you. In such cold – it no longer hurt nor could it heal. One needed to wait. Translated by Omer Hadžiselimović

- MARGITA

She’d pull a blanket over her head. She’d say: Although I see buds on branches, spring will not come again. Sometimes she didn’t have enough strength even to answer the phone. I’d wait outside the door, she wouldn’t open. We’d sit in silence – she on one side, I on the other – waiting for something to happen. And it  []

- WOMAN OF MY LAND

With this small infinity surrounding you in every situation you cannot be satisfied. Because, you are powerful and glorious, Not without pedigree There is no exit in your soul. They want to break you, mold you, accustom you to pain Make a doll of you, with restricted movements in the large joints  The more difficult to you it is, the  []