There were three things in the world he did like:
a song sung at sunset,
the sight of white peacocks,
and faded old maps of the New World.
He didn’t care for the sound of children crying,
too-sweet tea, or females being emotional
. . . I can’t believe I was his wife.
Он любил три вещи на свете:
За вечерней пенье, белых павлинов
И стертые карты Америки.
Не любил, когда плачут дети,
Не любил чая с малиной
И женской истерики.
...А я была его женой.