The mask of survival is falling off, shivers and shudders,
The blue parade of death is marching,
Cremation celebrations, wives and children
Are cast upon the funeral pyre,
Everything is burning to extinction,
Love is the last letter I wrote to you
Becoming indistinguishable from ash.
I just read about d. a. levy last night for the first time. It seems he commited suicide surrounded by a ring of ash - his burned manuscripts. He was only 26.
Ha sadness is a mistress to the poet and mourning, loss, death are great companions too. Very clever lines, indeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, this gives me goosebumps it's so good! Very cleverly written. Such turmoil and emotion makes great fodor for great poetry. Keep it coming.