Long before Effendi arrived,
we had happy times in the river house.
You washed our clothes in the Drina
and I sang lullabies to your sister.
In the evenings, we watched the fishermen
beneath the bridge and sometimes we came home
with perch in our bags. With my good eye
and my bad eye I watched over you both;
without wishing it, we were happy.
Now your sister is gone and every day
we think of happiness. It took two months
for the news to reach us — in those two months
we were governed by God alone.
What joy was ours if only we had known.
Now I read stories to you when you lie down at night
with your eyes already closed.
Laurence O’Dwyer | Transcript from The Hague
Contents | Mudlark No. 75 (2023)