and thick curtains
hang
morning
and here i am
in
a dark room
still writing
lines that do not tease
and inspire
unwashed face
and sounds of brooms
sweeping outside
and motors shouting
and people's feet
on a sunday
in a market
breakfast
served and waiting
by the housemaid
unspeaking
you write the last line
it is enough
things are meant
to begin again
this day, remove
the curtains
open the windows
take a walk
and think of some reasons
why you must go
why she is gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem