Paper Bridges: Selected Poems of Kadya Molodowsky

My Day

My Day My day— Is punctured like a sieve, And ridiculed like a whim. May winter whiteness blossom, May autumns turn gray, May summers whistle— Become nightingales.116 When a rye-wind Would have twisted my heart, Intoxicated it, Transformed it into summer—117 Here, at the end of the street, Three women stretched out their fists to me From three wasted rooms, As from sinking ships, Pale, Boney, Sexless Fists of poverty, And swore at me: May my life be miserable In my summers, in my winters, In the north and the south. And I can escape nowhere. The roads are busy, busy. Here stand the Kulbak-like bronze youths,118 With paper flowers, With rubber dolls. The youths, who can turn a city upside down, Build railroads And sow gardens and train tracks. They deal with the-devil-knows-what— With my heart and with paper pledges. 311 ,pnn PK'O K •'ii 312 Their voice Is derision, Mockery, And bloody menace. And such is my day: Punctured like a sieve. And ridiculed like a whim. 313 ,pjnw px jttwn D5n fbys p-H ] X pya H *n ,y-iynw *?a-ix tra tp^oxmixs ix lytoma px ^ is T I oxa^ t3»^ tnjni ''n ^-in x px nasa x \m f w nyo^n x ooyia^ oy oxn iyn oy oxn ]ix ,-isntnjtt pVx osn is 18a |i?HaS^ ps ^ixry^ T9 ? pnp oy ^n ,^§8 px ayi ^y^ois ]is ont: H tra yam px pynx jyr-n ]^na H - .pxipnxs fVys ]iyt?3ix pyix yi^a tra 7K pa w ayi t^^y^ynxa nyi px ,0-1x1 T»IK IXJ x oaoxt: nyi ^xa ]yai^T; o "'ii ,fVx 7X nyn 314 ...