The women ran
screaming like goats
but he was warned
by the flash
on the ceiling
when they opened
their car doors.
Their feet were heavy
on the flat stones.
Glass smashed
dangerously inward.
He thought, 'I think,
therefore...' he ran.
Above the city,
universes sparkled
in the cold, black air.
Crouching in a red shadow,
he remembered thinking...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem