we just go on
in our angers, little prejudices,
likes and dislikes, whims and fancies
clichés
deep-seated fears
and pile them up into barriers
(a)
the tea is cold in the cup
and he has not finished talking;
he nods hurriedly as I blab
and races into his discourse
(b)
the women look away
there is a word, some muttering,
some remarks…
(c)
brothers thank each other
with incoherent words
that register nowhere
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem