Paperclip
Paperclips were different then,
more magnificent, silvery, they knew people better.
They left long marks on their fingers
and smelled like coins and the rising moon.
Desks were also so different then,
splendid in crowns of pigeon-holes and files...
Those scratching pencils, cracking folders,
carbon-smeared typewriter-bells jingling on and on...
Arched ceilings of those offices,
their bright corridors in cigarette smoke.
Rattling buckets on wide stairs at daybreak,
flags snapping on roofs on state holidays.
Look, there are some clips in a jar on the desk,
always ready to go under a meddlesome fingernail.
They firmly believe that the system can be improved
and they keep up yellow lace curtains over aspidistra.
- Paperclips are in the storeroom, you want me to get some?- Stop him, he walked in, took the paperclips and beat it!- Leave it, sir, I'll fix it with a paperclip.- Jane, give me a paperclip so I can fix my skirt.Translated by Paweł Marcinkiewicz and Charles Vander Zwaag