Oravecz Imre: Birthday

It's after midnight,
the party guests are gone,
worn out by being sociable I'm sitting in the living room,
and thinking of my grandfather
I didn't know,

what did he feel like in Canada,
when he, too, reached the age of sixty
and looked ahead
as I have today,

did his heart tremble
when he saw the void awaiting him
after his children, aunt Anne and uncle Steve living in the same town
had wished him happy birthday,

or he didn't care
because he was a tough guy
and took everything the way it was
and no one visited him on that day,
the whole family despised him for his alcoholism
and he spent the whole day alone in his rented room,
pinned down by nasty arthritis,
his pains subdued only in the evening,
then he went down to the bar round the corner
and had a drink and some company?