Express Moscow - Warsaw, seat thirteen, - I donít believe in omen - it is not because of the omen: Indeed I am merely to Minsk, the major - merely to Brest, I make myself understood to the major, and each - about his. I to him about my defects, But he doesnít know about grief: Economicly - everything is in order with him, Morally - Spit on moral! The major is not talkative - the war ended for him being a soldier, - But when I to him with all my heart - the major became affably. But after an hour we both used bad language, And obtained a very concrete conversation. I to him about my defects, But he doesnít know about grief: Economicly - everything is in order with him, Morally - Spit on moral! The major almost wept, because he again will depart, Because he is again near Berlin for a whole year: He has sufficient trouble without those Germans, - If there had at least been fighting, but now itís the other way around. I to him about my defects, But he doesnít know about grief: Economicly - everything is in order with him, Morally - Spit on moral! The major is centimental - he had a nervous break down: His wife escorted him however - I spoke to her. Afterwards the major told me: "Now is not forty-one, And I - believe me lad! - Itís like to live oneís life all over again. I to him about my defects, But he doesnít know about grief: Economicly - everything is in order with him, Morally - Spit on moral!
© Elisabeth Jelinek. Translation, 2018