The Fortune-Teller’s Plea

Good evening, friends!
I bring you tidings. Tidings from the fortune-teller.
I don’t know why. I was only walking past the house.
I didn’t even turn my head, not for a greeting, not for a glance.
She pulled me in herself and dragged me inside, into the dusk.

She begs that tonight we forgive her
her mistaken prophecies and her own delusions.
I don’t even know why she begs. When she could demand.
She begs us to forgive her and to kill her. That’s how she saw it happen, she says.
I don’t even know why she begs, if that’s the truth. Didn’t she see it?

Or maybe she saw something else? And maybe she wants to change fate?
Or wants us to change fate? Us? Mad witch, if that’s it.
Or maybe we should listen to her? She has never once slipped up. Not that we believe her,
of course. But then she doesn’t slip... I don’t know... She’s tripped me up.

Oh, and come to think of it — what was mistaken? Which delusion?
Everything happened just the way we asked her...

Or we could do nothing at all. What’s one plea worth?
Forget it? Only she’ll be angry afterwards.
And my road runs past there every day.
I don’t even look at the house, and yet... she pulls you in.

So it’s decided! We’ll think about it!
And do you remember she was in love at one time...
With one of you. I’ve forgotten with whom, it’s been so long.
Yes. I know that’s not what matters now.

No. I’m not afraid of her. Why should I be afraid?
If we kill her tonight, she’ll be dead.
And if we don’t, then she’s wrong and her prophecies are lies.
Why should I be afraid, either way?

2008