We Have No Sleep 

by Nikola Madzirov

All forms of farewell without touching
have been forgotten. We think of tomorrow,
as we feed the swans 
with yesterday’s bread. From our memory
flows water enough to sustain several 
fields of wheat. We watch how the rain 
repeats itself immaculately, stealing 
the dust. We have no sleep,
belong to no one night 
nor any candle can lengthen 
our shadows onto the walls of the wind.

Translated by Peggy and Graham W. Reid

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