Rain
By Anzhelina Polonskaya
The rain came down all day.
The drops clattered against the iron benches
and Chekhov, ill, sitting on some sort of old-fashioned sofa,
came to mind.
That long day I never got out of bed.
I felt weighed down by the sleeping pill, like a cloud.
There's a limit to everything, it seemed to me.
But love passed and even yearning faded,
like a jackal baring her teeth in anticipation.
In sum, nothing remained — just my room.
The rain poured down it got dark.
And suddenly the whistle of a night train slashed through me
and I started to cry.
Because words can't say it.
Copyright Credit: Anzhelina Polonskaya, "Rain" from To The Ashes. Copyright © 2019 by Anzhelina Polonskaya, translated by Andrew Wachtel. Reprinted by permission of Zephyr Press.
Source: To The Ashes (Zephyr Press, 2019)