Soft the whispers, soft almost below
hearing, faint the vision, the clasp of
this that would be a warm embrace
to defrost the soul slowly turning into
stone as the ice of reality thickens
in my daily life
The official text is freezing the blood
in my veins; my heart stops beating
as cold lines cut deep ridges carrying
dreams away, intense cold cutting
time into thinner slices shattering
glass leaving shards
That cleave the heart, no words to
carry the sensation of caress, no
sweet words to evoke images of
being, life is out of reach
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem