I Find it Harder and Harder
to give a final shape to something. Not a single cup
I scoop up water in, not a single jug I carry it in attains
the balance between full and empty.
Today I dare not do anything more than
to weed the garden, rake up the words, throw
them on the compost, and wait for spring
to turn them over.
Translated by Omer Hadžiselimović
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