Until her last breath she enlarges <br />Her Oxford house <br />Built in Slavonic <br />Vowels and consonants <br /> <br />She polishes the corner-stones <br />Until their Anglo-Saxon shine <br />Begins to sing <br /> <br />Her death is like a short breath-stop <br />Under the distant limetrees of her friends <br /> <br /> <br />Trans. by Peter Jay, Anthony Rudolf, and Daniel Weissbort <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous submission.<br /><br />Vasko Popa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anne-pennington/
