A woman undisciplined rebuilt
her house from crumbs of memory
bound with sentimental dough.

The memories broken into light
created a rainbow.
People were amazed that such a light
with its many hues could flow
from splinters arranged as a house.
 
 
 

Translated by Anthony Rudolf
 
published in Modern Poetry in
Translation no.14, winter 1998-99,
King's College, London, page150

You cannot cast yourself to the winds. 
Lay your body down in the mild snow 
and leave your shape on it.
Yes, one can impress even frozen water.
The earth will take in your essence when the sun arrives, 
and in spring distinctive blossoms will bloom 
fruit of the forbidden touch of fevered flesh on flesh 
and the chill immaculacy of nature, 
soothing those who crave love.
 

Translated by Daniel Weissbort

published in Modern Poetry in
Translation no.14, winter 1998-99,
King's College, London, page150