My computer writes on its monitor
Lines I dictate I do not know from where:
Really I do not know
They simply flow.
And
When my hands come off the key-board
The ticking of the typing stops:
One tick per figure that is – there was.
And now
And now
There is no ticking
My fingers do not run across the board
And I
Only I
Stare vacant at the monitor
And all is silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem