from Holy Winter 20 / 21
A stirring, ceaseless
Tickling
And scratching
Water on snow
Steam on water
Self on self
And dark, as the inside of a bucket
And like steamed-up glasses
Like in the brightest bath of snow
You are made double
You evaporate as you move
~
Wind. The blue of the mountains invisible
in the twilight, under winter stars
Our little house is covered in snow
I hear the dogs barking
By the village gates
Through snow and wind
Someone is coming home.
Foreign words melt in the cheek
Like sugar cubes.
____________________
Maria Stepanova
Holy Winter 20 / 21
translated by Sasha Dugdale
New Directions, 2024
