At an Icy Lake in Madison

by Polina Barskova
translated by Anna Halberstadt

The winter (my beloved)
is about to stay here
for a while
to host
night camping grounds
for vagrants,
with their
smelly garbage bags,
sticky Mohawks
their dirty sins
and chamber pots.

Like December birds
all soaked in piss at dawn
lying on ice
covered by barf
with their honeys
and concerns
they blow
in their disastrous
trumpets

Their stinkat dawn
spreads like a fire:
don’t you dare
to touch!
or maybe—
dare

Beggars are lying
back to back,
like stumps in dark
and dirty sleeves
like bonfires
on city squares
wind sweeps around
and round them
their lives—a short measure

They lie in the dark
head to feet
frothing at their mouths.
You see a newborn Dante
a severe looking
dapper and lively cop
rushing their way,
but taking note

of the revolt
and speeding
right away

Winter winter, Earth’s groom,
embrace them
hug them to your chest
in the winter cold
we surely will not
allow them
to squeeze in
amongst us,
but when your solemn hour
finally reaches us,
do mix us all
together
and bury under snow.