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Ronalds Briedis

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