about my name

with my brother ibed

oi, they give me many names
and how rich my image is

while even mother didn’t know
who I was when I asked, one day after it rained
in the yard wiping off my shoeprints
made of velvet or mute

and now who am I
other than someone in a hurry challenged by time
jumping through a train door
towards you
then at every transit platform
I give a greeting: hi, how are you
do we still have time
for just a little lie?

but whose train is this?
dusty window glass is still covered in gray

so about my name, whatever you wish
it must be beautiful, for you are a name specialist
but don’t forget, tell me your name too
because each ticket will be checked
and at any time anyone could say
: is this your train too? don’t forget
your name!

nanoq da kansas
translated by Joyce Adiwinata