STATIONS

(translated by Brigitte Orešnik)

For a very long time

I’ve been ridding the train,

past stations both pleasing and clean,

but none of the spots I’ve seen

made me want to stop just there.

My station is far away somewhere,

small, and modest and plain,

I can hardly remember it any more,

the telegraph poles along the tracks

are wiping out its face.

Sometime, somewhere, I’ll get off, I’m sure,

at a strange and unknown place,

and calmly let every train pass by –

and never I’ll find, however I’ll try

the answer to my question: “Why?”

Just this: I can’t go on, I can’t go back.

This is where I have to remain.