by Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger
I want to sleep and sleep. I’m so tired
and my happiness is tortured and sore.
I’m so alone—even my favorite song
is gone and doesn’t want to return.
If I sleep, I also dream
and dreams are so beautiful.
They conjure a smiling touch
even over the most difficult things.
Inside a dream is forgetting
and shimmering, rainbowed trinkets.
Who knows—maybe they’ll banish me, too,
forever in this country.
Copyright ©:Translated by Carlie Hoffman
Last updated January 10, 2023