| 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.
Diana Radovan PhD ELS is a multigenre, Romanian-born writer (of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction, and hybrid forms) and teacher of writing living in Munich, Germany. Nature, wilderness, voice, and the crossing of borders play a crucial role in her writing and her creative practice. Her work has been published broadly across languages and borders since 2004. She is the founder of the multicultural writing group Creative Writing in Munich and a Sarah Selecky Writing School Faculty member. In recent years, she has actively engaged in a number of collaborations with other writers and visual artists living in Munich. Currently she is working on her first book, a hybrid experimental memoir spanning three generations. Read more about her and discover her awards and publications at dianaradovan.com.
