Sunday, August 18, 2019

Come Closer and Listen by Charles Simić

Come Closer and Listen
I was born—don’t know the hour—
Slapped on the ass
And handed over crying
To someone many years dead
In a country no longer on the map,
Where like a leaf on a tree,
The fair weather gone,
I twirled around and fell to the ground
With barely a sound
For the wind to carry me away
Blessed or cursed—who is to say?
I no longer fret about it,
Since I’ve heard people talk
Of a blind lady called Justice
Eager to hear everyone’s troubles,
But don’t know where to find her
And ask her the reason
The world treats me some days well,
Some days ill. Still, I’d never
Be the first to blame her,
Blind as she is, poor thing,
She does the best she can.

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