Triple Ginger Cookies

The time of harvest and the time of poems is passing.
Sorrel, fern and wild strawberries covered my notebook.
Pine cones and dried seeds of trees
mixed with shreds of sentences.

Not a single poem has yet matured.
The crossed-out words return with clamor.
Light glitters in patches on mowed fields.
This hour too will be more lovely in recollection.

~ Anna Kamienska, in Astonishments, translated by Grazyna Drabik and David Curzon