Na engleski

The End od the Day

Every night death comes in the lodgings of those who sleep
Through the corridor, kitchen, living room, with unheard tramp,
Between the desk and the sofa, She walks and She peeps,
Touching the open novel, complete collection of stamps.

Then She tightens the tablecloth, screws gas vents that seep,
Removes unnecessary hole from the belt too tight,
On the chessboard She lines up the figures and deep
Under the armchair She finds the missing knight.

Translated by author