In Paris at corner gates
Cherries grow inside their crates;
While the grapes, to knock your socks
Grow for you ripe in a box.
Peaches, who could have believed?
Wrapped in tissue, grow un-heaved.
And believe me when I say:
Apples grow in shops all day.
Plums on weighing scales grow well,
As do melons, can’t you tell?
Strawberries, though somewhat rushed
Grow on stalls already washed.
And the peanuts, true and true,
Grow in pubs out of the blue.
Quite a bore inside this city,
Not a bee, and not a kitty.
Still, there’s something hard to beat:
In Paris, on every street,
Round the doggies’ tails, alert,
Grow baguettes and camembert.
(from the volume Testament - 400 de ani de poezie românească - 400 Years of Romanian Poetry - Daniel Ionita - editor and principal translator, assisted by Daniel Reynaud, Adriana Paul and Eva Foster - Minerva Publishing- 2019)
Translator: Daniel Ionita
see more poems written by: Ana Blandiana
