"Cat in an empty apartment"
(Wisława Szymborska, 1993)
Die - you can't do that to a cat.
Since what can a cat do
in an empty apartment?
Climb the walls?
Rub up against the furniture?
Nothing seems different here,
but nothing is the same.
Nothing has been moved,
but there's more space.
And at nighttime no lamps are lit.
Footsteps on the staircase,
but they're new ones.
The hand that puts fish on the saucer
has changed, too.
Something doesn't start,
at its usual time.
Something doesn't happen
as it should.
Someone was always, always here,
then suddenly disappeared
and stubbornly stays disappeared.
Every closet has been examined.
Every shelf has been explored.
Excavations under the carpet turned up nothing.
A commandment was even broken,
papers scattered everywhere.
What remains to be done.
Just sleep and wait.
Just wait till he turns up,
just let him show his face.
Will he ever get a lesson
on what not to do to a cat.
Sidle toward him
as if unwilling
and ever so slow
on visibly offended paws,
and no leaps or squeals at least to start.
Recently I've realized that I've been writing about films, jokes, etc; but not a single word about a very important part of my life, i.e. my dog. So, I've decided to change that. I want to tell you about my dog-Aksel a.k.a. Stasiu (yes, I know you are all sick & tired of hearing about him and me constantly talking about him ). Well, tough luck, 'cause you're going to hear about him AGAIN :P
