The Border Poem by Kristin Dimitrova

My daughter asked me whether
I had brought her bubble gum.

I told her I had not
but I was there all right.

She objected that I was one thing
and bubble gum quite another.

I pointed out she could not always
expect something nice.

She corrected me:
‘Not something nice but bubble gum.'

And although the sun was doing its best
and the birds interrupted each other

and the grass in the park was greedy-green,
my daughter rained her heart out.

There is a happy world and a sad one
and bubble gum in-between.

Translated by Gregory O'Donoghue