God Hid His Face
Selected Poems of RAJZEL ZYCHLINSKY
 
Songs from the Orphanage
 
A.
The apples are already stored in the cellar. 
The chestnut tree rustles and rustles 
its last leaves against my window: 
What number wife does Toby's father have by now, 
somewhere in the world? 
Toby's little hands get frozen early -
in September.

Snow falls early 
and covers the orphanage, 
the roof, the doorstep. 
Doors get whiter, higher, 
the doors of the orphanage.

In a little white bed, Toby falls asleep, 
her little shoes next to the bed, 
her little dress on the bench -
her gray, frozen dress.
 

B.
The rooms are full of moonlight. 
I wander from room to room 
and close the doors slowly; 
the children are afraid, 
the children in the orphanage.
 
Translated by Barnett Zumoff 

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