Group
They had been living long together,
And they had rather started to repeat themselves:
He was she,
And she was he.
She was she,
And he was she too.
Sometimes she either was, or she was not,
That's when he was one she, two shes, and many shes.
Such used to be life, more or less.
And above all, early each morning,
Till they would get at last to demarcate
Who was each one,
Where they did start and end
Why in this way and not the other one,
A lot of time was wasted,
As carried by a river time was flowing.
They even tried to kiss sometimes,
But suddenly they realized
That both of them were she.
Much easier to duplicate.
But scared by such discovery,
Both would start yawning
A yawn of softened wool,
Which could be even knitted, the way it follows:
One she yawned very attentively,
Meanwhile, the other she was due to hold the ball.
poem by Marin Sorescu, translated by Catalina Iliescu
Added by Dan Costinaş
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