Today is the day, today
an unknown saint is being celebrated.
Our child
will be named after him
and will say the prayers
that have no signature.
Today is the day when
someone’s voice from the stained glass
will come back in many colours.
Even my cough is a call
after someone who’s not here.
Today is the day when
childhood passes
imperceptibly as warm air
through a dreamer’s lungs.
Translated by: Magdalena Horvat