I myself sent her to death

By: Aqif Hysa

I myself sent her to death. Step by step.
She held on my arm tight. She feared falling.
We’d laugh until the end and beyond. We’d remain silent.
We’d go beyond word as though playing with toys.
We would phone the wind. Was last autumn’s wind.
The leaves would answer us. The leaves fallen on the road.
We’d play with the leaves. The leaves would play with us.
As though they were announcements. As though they were dolls.
We stood in front of the building. We pushed the door open. She entered inside.
She surrendered to white uniformity, to fragility.
She never came back. Whiteness had devoured her forever.

English Translation by:
Ukë Zenel Buçpapaj

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