Absent-mindedly dropping oranges
into the grave what a “fauks pauks”!
For a short while in the Poznań woman’s soul
a battle rages: should she, for a net full of suns
(all the dearer for being bought cheap,
and so much sweeter you could have them with pepper),
descend like Orpheus, like Aeneas or Dante
among the dead? And not with him, but with the oranges,
return to the slightly scandalised
mourners?
And the decision: she’ll stay put,
and to the very great pity add a small one.


Translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones