The Names of Mountains

(This is the English version of: Imena Planine.)

I love you for nothing that you did,
but for what you brought forth from my heart
with your little names.

For your love of bread, and for the times
we rolled down the windows and sang
for no one but our selves.

In the kennels the dogs all ask
Who lives in the silence that follows me?

(And when I dream, your birthmarks are my constellations,
hand-in-hand we sit on castles, fly above silent promenades.)

If today I woke up and could not remember your face
I would change the names of mountains, tear up the maps,
shake the words from every book.

And like a child, I would set out
believing I could find you again.