We didn't choose each other.
We were locked together.
Watching his ugly face.
He looks back: I see myself.
Who is in which end of the cable
who is that places me at his will?
This isn't a game between the two of us,
this tug of war.
Someone's pulling my strings from above:
once he pulls me, next he leaves me.
Smells the blood. Nosing around me.
The heat of the body. Steaming.
Can't take it anymore. This distillate is too raw to me.
The beast wins out of beauty.
The scale goes off balance.
Two derelict puppets. Deteriorated.
Event in the greenhouse: behold.
The heart's been stubbed.
(Translated by Gabor G. Gyukics)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem