Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Poems

Translated from Russian by Katherine E. Young

Cat and Mouse

Grandma stood a while at the gate, looking toward the end of the street where, blowing on his militia whistle, Vaska the garbage man should have appeared on his wagon, but he hadn’t been for nine days already – that meant he was on a bender again, and Grandma, sighing, picked up the pail and walked to the edge of the village to the trash heap. And in the mousetrap we’d caught a mouse, and, returning with the empty pail, Grandma, not taking off her shoes, decided to go after Vaska, because trash is one thing but a mouse is another, for trash is just a long walk, but a mouse – for a woman – is beyond endurance, as Mama says, and, leaving the pail, Grandma went.

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