For Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot
Who remain dead and indifferent
Why must this care
Which is ours only
Why must it live
In such careless places?
Our caresses
Under the constant threat
Of growing distance?
Why is it only given
These ragged clothes?
These obsolete credentials?
Moving through the windswept shelters
Tenants
Under the perpetual suspicion
Of the loveless
Landlords
24/2/2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow a fascinating glimpse, very poetic and literary a muse on the landlord situation. Many tenants must feel dis way. Tnx.