We are going to die of hunger.
My teeth ache,
my left leg is frostbitten.
I almost finished the honey.
What have I done?
How selfish I am!
What are they going to say?
What will they
spread on their bread now?
Mother looks terrible–
a shadow of herself.
She works very hard.
Whenever I wake up
at twelve or one in the night
she is bent
over the sewing machine,
and she gets up at six.
I have no heart, no pity,
eat everything
I can lay my hands on.
Today I had an argument
with Father.
I insulted and even cursed him.
And this was because yesterday
I weighed the noodles
but this morning took
a spoonful for myself.
When father came back
he weighed them,
found there was less,
started yelling at me.
He was right, but I was
upset and cursed him.
Father just stood
at the window
and cried like a child.
No stranger ever
abused him like I did.
Everybody was home
I went to bed quickly
I thought I would die of hunger
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