I look out of the window at the retreating back …
Your jealousy is both touching and funny.
Can’t you see that I am old, a wreck,
And apart from you nobody in the world needs me?
Well, what’s so touching and funny about that?
Jealous, you’re keen to drive away literally all
From our home, with its moss-coated roof,
And our life, which consists entirely of holes!
But they keep coming, out of some sort of natural goodness—
To scrape the moss from the roof, here and there to tighten a screw,
And they bring me young flowers as well, and their thanks
For your still being alive and cared for by me.
And something else they steal away with, more exactly, it’s a vision
of how to survive into one’s dotage
And continue to be loved, and also, as time runs out,
Listen not to the news but to hymns that do not age.
And they envy my attachment to you, as true love, no less,
So you’d better restrain your impulsive jealousy.
In this world, replete with evil and grievous loss,
Let me open the door with a smile to all who wish to enter.
Translated by Daniel Weissbort