From “The Cherry Tree’s Journey”

The cherry tree said its farewells to us this morning
It’s leaving for America

where can we tie up the donkey now, asked the mother
to the shadow of its trunk, the father answered

Nina, who was stirring up snow for supper
added three grains of cumin
stinginess be damned

*

The shadow is wasting away with love for the absent tree
noon shrinks it to a dark stain underfoot
the earth is opaque with untold sorrows
from what source do these tears spring?

*

The rain isn’t the same since little brother died
says the mother
it used to come out of the shutters
leaving the sky to the snow which melted in astonishment

*

What use is the snow?
it erases the earth to rewrite it correctly

*

The sun was thorny when the mother planted the child in the earth back at home
she dismantled the house
washed its walls in the river the way she did laundry
the seven pebbles hurled against the sky came back to her coated in their noise
A pebble on the tongue of the malicious wind
four pebbles to hold down the roof of the garden shed
leaning on his spade
the gardener is as solitary as the tree which looks at him

*

Rivers which flow in a straight line gather no pebbles
Nina picked up three that were all the same color
What’s the weather like at the source? she asked them

*

The spruce tree prepares a mixture of six herbs
for mothers who stir soup in closed circles
dead children have only to come and sit at the table
cold-pierced hands will do the dishes
turn out the lights
then slam the door behind them with a rustling of wings

*

The mother arranges the marbles by size and sadness
the child will play with them when he’s less dead
when the grass which grew on his bed is less white
beyond the horizon there’s another horizon she says pulling herself up to the skylight
and that milky odor of waves which clap with both hands
when a little drowned child comes up to the surface
with a pebble on his palm

*

The sun’s shadow on the path presages forgetfulness and consolation
the father draws its outline with a stick
which he plants in the middle of the circle

*

Grandfather goes over his dream backwards
to find his glasses which strayed in his sleep
he says:
closing your eyes doesn’t change what happens in the darkness
old houses stagger in the night

*

We fold up your shadow in the evening writes the father to Cherry Tree
we put it away near the cat who’s had a litter
six soot-colored kittens
who’ll be bleached by the snow
grandfather found his glasses in the chicken house

*

Cherry Tree has made his fortune in America
his letter is weighed down with abundance and prosperity
he will marry a rich lady Cherry Tree, says the cat who’s plucking a quail on the doorstep

*

People in America sleep standing up like pencils
like horses
seen at night one would take them for splinters
cats wait for them behind their doors
they have to feed them and water the basil
I should have brought my shadow with me

*

It’s raining on the winter of America
sparrows eat my cherry pits
and throw the fruit-flesh over their shoulders
I’m alone to the right
alone to the left
why didn’t I bring my shadow?

From Nettles by Venus Khoury-Ghata, translated by Marilyn Hacker. Translation copyright 2008 by Marilyn Hacker. All rights reserved.