Again the marble counter is covered
with blood and sunlight.
Again it is slaughtering-day in the old town store.
Again the butcher smiles,
having wiped the blood off his hands.
Again Handel plays on the radio.
Again the branching dog rose blooms
above the black-haired customer.—Store, Judita Vaičiūnaitė (transl. Rimas Uzgiris [x])
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