into the sweet orchard
you will go, woman, into the sweet orchard
a bone through a throat
a chunk of clay that melts
slowly burying yourself
in the dark pond of his body
you'll go as if into a river
first — a large fish
with a white belly full of dreams
second — a bloody berry
a closed fist full of bitter seeds
third — an empty jar
with a narrow
neck full of song
each time you enter you won't have a name
each time you enter you'll carry a mouthful of names
you'll swallow them beyond the gates
so that again you won't have any
so that you can return
__________________________
Iryna Shuvalova
Pray to the Empty Wells
translated by Olena Jennings
Lost Horse Press, 2019
