(Translated by Rachel Tzvia Back.
Appeared in Modern Poetry in Translation, May 2016)
Now we are refugees
from the life that once was
ours,
that abandoned us like slippery
ground beneath our dreaming
feet.
Now
in this other land,
the horizon is clear and blue,
the northern winds muddle
our memories
like sightless flies
and sometimes for hours
we can turn our blind
gaze away
from the chair beside us,
remaining always empty.