4 O'Clock AM
Like a frantic, deep sea diver
beneath the Arctic waters,
caught and cold under the ice
his escape hole, frozen over
and the oxygen tank on low,
beats, furiously, under the ice floe,
I, too, in a panic,
beat along these four walls,
the floor and the ceiling,
looking for some plaster hole,
some way to escape,
this sparse, dark room
then, at the darkest point of night,
just before dawn comes
and morning arrives
you'll find me gone,
and the diver,
sunk to the bottom of the sea...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful, sad but beautiful- desrves a ten from me :)