Yuri Andrukhovych | "Train Station"

here we long to get into the right train
following the maze of signs we hasten
trough cramped corridors between bundles and suitcases
we don't have time to look up to where under the spherical vault
hangs down dusty and dingy
florentine chandeliers
we compress sweaty copper coins like springs
we form disorderly lines
above us the gypsum wall-mounted ten-year-old putto
sometimes blowing into his gilt horn
we throw a glance at a bored blonde girl
who eats an apple while leaning against a column
finally we reach the platform
impregnated with beer and roses
we kiss someone we beg them not to forget we hesitate
if we're in the right seat
until we release orselves from the earth
and softly depart
soothed we look through the windows at the first trees
turning yellow in the suburban woods

Translated from Ukrainian by Ostap Kin and Adam Brodsky

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Poem "Train Station" is a part of Yuri Andrukhovych's cycle "The New Etudes of Premises", included into his book of verses "Exotic Birds and Plants" (Ivano-Frankivsk, 1997).

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Yuri Andrukhovych is Ukrainian poet, writer, essayist and translator. He's an editor-in-chief of literary journal "Potyah 76".