Amid dirty plates and mugs and sausage skins
next to a hand-cranked machine for cutting pasta
next to the fire-scorched stinking ebonite
handles of a pot in haste in the course of a rainless storm
sweating staring as hard as I possibly can I’m trying
with a teaspoon to dig out a scrap of egg shell
that’s stuck in a very tall glass.
© translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones