Magda Isanos (1916-1944) The Poppies (Macii) Like atop Each awry living torches they were burning

their stems, both frail and sleek. merry poppy, laughing, turning a blushing, sunward cheek.

I let my greedy hands collect them, and wandered through the balmy eve. With grateful arms I bore their burden, my inner ardor to relieve. And and the was late, after the sun had hidden, I was back under my roof, field, to which good night I'd bidden, all aloof.

But when I tried to put the poppies into a flamy bunch to store, their withered petals fell and scattered like teardrops falling on the floor. (1937) =========================== Translation: Paul Abucean ===========================