people say i am a narrow
path. There is no allowance for
a waterway. There is even
no space for birds. No grains
along the way. No flowers.
they add, i am cruel
above all to myself. I give
myself no time for wishes.
No dreams. There is no
horizon for an illusion.
my life is just a house and
nothing else. There is no
backyard, no place for
dogs to play. An extension
could be an office. There is
no other path that leads
to the circus. I hate clowns.
People say i am mad.
I don't mind. I am real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem