Latvian Feature
more poetry
Ronalds Briedis
***
Silence
Like the one before the world was created
Fog slides over the river
Tangles in bushes on shore
Dew trembles on a branch
A bud bursts open
A fledgling moves in a nest
Silence
Like the one before the first word was spoken
Church bells lick their lips
***
Before addressing the people
The prophet on return from the desert
Bends over the well
To quench his thirst
But freezes
When he sees his reflection —
His open mouth a zero
Translated by Margita Gailitis, with J. C. Todd
