I closed myself in my book
on my favorite page,
And went to collect the dust
on the wooden shelf.
Than I turned on a new page,
In order not to walk on the wire any longer.
Not to allow my own words to betray me.
The words, no one is to remember apart from myself.
But
never mind that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem