At the gates to the city
I wait
a smile.
You danced in the glow of the fire,
to the music of my violin,
but you didn’t see
my sadness.
At the gates to the city
I wait
a hand.
You came into my tent,
warmed yourself by the fire,
but you didn’t sate
my hunger.
At the gates to the city
I Wait
a word.
You wrote long books
asked a thousand questions,
but you never opened
my soul.
At the gates to the city
with me wait
many gypsies.
Translated by Katie Hepworth