Watercolour
by Ion Minulescu (1881-1944)
translated by Daniel Ionita
"In the
city where it’s raining for three days each week unplanned
City
dwellers on the walkways,
Wander
walking hand in hand.
In the
city where it's raining for three days each
week unplanned,
From
behind the old umbrellas, which are sighing
And
are bending,
Moist
with raining without ending,
City
dwellers on the walkways
Seem
like automated puppets, fallen down from shop displays.
In the
city where it's raining, for three days each week unplanned
On the walkways there’s no sound,
Save
for the footsteps of those found to be walking hand in hand,
Counting
In
their minds
The
rhythm of the chilly drops of rain,
From
umbrellas now descending,
From
the drain pipes,
From
the sky
With
the power of a dye
Which
endows a life that’s slow,
Quite
insipid,
Without
purpose,
Without
flow...
In the
city where it’s raining for three days each week unplanned
And
old couple looking bland,
Two
old toys for long now broken,
Wander, walking hand in hand."