the puzzle remained
that night i went out of the house
made a stroll
feeling the coldness of the wind
the hollowness of the
plaza
as all had gone to their houses
to sleep
i was the only one perhaps
perchance awake trying to make
a conversation with the poplars
my professor in philosophy once
said that trees talk to
lonely people
as they too are bored unable
to take a stroll
towards another mountain.
i am searching for explanations
how lonely people come about
how some have failed utterly to
deal with it
taking their own lives as though
these lives are their own
i walked past midnight
morning had arrived late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem