Last song
Ana,
take care of me,
please brush my hair with your thin fingers
because for you I've created a canticle.
Come on, sponge me down for the last time
and forgive me darling as you forgive the rain
when it overturns the leaves on the ground, without thought.
Inside the drawer there is a Music Sheet,
open it to the last page and sing it without sound.
Receive it as a gift
and then tell me
if it lacks something to be perfect.
Ana,
an apple is waiting to be peeled. Peel it!
In the vase, the flower is eager for some water. Water it!
That white scarf which wasn’t worn for two winters, put it on!
And now, open the window darling
to enjoy the melody of the forest
as it gets nude this season.
Oh, inside my head there is just silence.
Do you feel the trembling of air?
It’s the breath of God.
Your face is his imagery!
I was lost without you, Ana,
blind as a mooncalf, miserable as the deaf.
Ana,
the dog is whining,
it warns of the pilgrimage of the soul.
What is beyond the forest, Ana...?
-- tr. Laureta Petoshati
Det syke barn -- Edvard Munch 
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