And as I came back fro the pub, chaddery, nonhaclant, and I 'st admit, a little drunk, I see in front o' the school folks gathered in a big line. Wotcha doing here, I ask Gheo who stood meekly in line. What's handed out? Not handed out, taken. He says. The thing's at your house. While peeling the potatoes, yo' wife saw God's face on one of them. An' now we stand in line to go kiss the potato, to take our sins away. Yo, I'm drunk, what's your excuse, good grief! Wife, any food? Cold, you're not gonna boil the Lord now. I can already see tomorrow we're gonna have angels on our beans.
(Translated by Cristina Stan / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year I / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.