Gilead
Written by Sandor Halmosi
Translated from Hungarian by Elizabeth Csicsery-Rónay
Narrated by Bill Wolak
Hungary
I love the way your boots knock,
the powdery snow on which you walk.
The storms you send me,
this agonizing shortness of breath,
for it comes from you,
I love them all.
I love that accursed evening in the courtyard,
the orchard you didn’t show me.
I love your defiance, your rage,
I love your impatience, which hangs from you
in thick tresses.
I know, in time and space my attraction to you is futile.
And it doesn’t help that I discovered love
some time on the eighth day.
But don’t shake your head – I dislike it.
I-words are skewed in existence,
and descend from the throat.
Believe me, I know whereof I speak, why and to whom.
Ever since I began loving you, I no longer know anything
for certain.
Whether you believe me or not, it’s all the same to me.