Painting by Mirek Kuzniar, Germany
Waiting for the bus
I’m waiting for the bus.
Many busses pass by the station.
They go to different places,
But there is no bus to take me where I want to go.
I am still waiting, from winter to spring.
No one cares about the people waiting for the bus.
They walk or they run.
I wait from dark till dawn.
Trees hibernate and wake up,
So, too, do the birds.
The city has slept for thousands of years,
except a few stars stay awake.
I don’t know the distance to the place I want to go.
I keep waiting for the bus.
Anna Keiko, China
Translation Germain Droogenbroodt – Stanley Barkan
from: „Absurd Nobility “, Chinese-English
Independently Poetry, Chile – USA, 2022