| Weekly Feature |
My mother sells water from the fountain
by Diana Radovan
My mother sells water from the fountain,
20 bani a cup.
There’s a heat wave in this city,
There’s thirst and hunger in this country.
On some days, the hunger can still be fought.
There are things in this city, in this country,
Things not to be talked about,
Family members held silent behind bars.
There are the books my mother reads on her birthday
With her friend S., whose father’s also not to be talked about.
Dissidents! Criminals! Traitors of their country!
These things are not to be talked about.
And yet the cherry trees are in full bloom, and
There’s still unpoisoned water in the fountain, and still
Many books to be passed around.
My mother sells water from the fountain,
20 bani a cup.