my father
the little trumpeter
shed his blood
for our throats
singing we trudge
him on our shields
a game we dig
his grave
my warden
the little trumpeter
presses brass
to his lips
trumps us
if our hearts
leave their cover
for his march
Uljana Wolf, kochanie, today i bought bread (World Poetry Books, 2023). Translated from the German by Greg Nissan
partisan song
29.2.2024