He spoke to her two days before he died
in the haunted room, now forever dark,
and told her of a dream that had replied
to the grief of their son's death by stark
denial. The child stayed until sunrise
and left with light. Here's how Dad's sorrows drowned:
face down, down in green dreams, in screams fun lies,
down, tolled down under water. There's no sound.
The dreams ended- his heart attack-surprised-
she's left alone. A mother, wife-no more!
What's etched in flesh twists inside when surmised
and photos climb crescendos she'll abhor
with mother, child, his arms (he's out of scope) .
She hoped arms, hands could choke her life like rope!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poetry touches a seventh sense inside me-and I can bathe in it's alchemy all day long! ! I am familiar with the subject matter- your definition was on the money! In fact, your aim with vocabulary is wonderfully and dreadfully accurate! ! Would you suggest some of your work which you, yourself are most fond of?