The files in the filing cabinet
Are all talking at once.
Mumble jumble, say the files
In the filing cabinet.
The desk, discreet,
Discloses nothing.
Rough drafts live
A roustabout life,
Tumbling from shelves,
While books, published
and smugly replete,
No longer feel the need
To compete.
Stationery sprawls,
Casual as sunbathers.
In the locked drawer,
Love letters lie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem