in good old days I built adobe houses for each memory
but then came flooding/ freezing/ and again flooding
even the scarecrow's shirt lost its colors
in our apple orchard
however you still ask me what happened/ how do I feel
I would answer to you something silly
like oh my god/ or what the heck/ how am I supposed to feel
but I abstain
we're too lonely/ the sun sets down behind our backs
and this is not a joke
we played the hangman's game in vain
today's words are private property/ we can't share them anymore
we sit together just the two of us at the last supper
two simple women/ flesh and blood
my today's self/ my yesterday's self
and tomorrow's holy ghost
there are no other reasons for wondering and marveling
it's just another starry night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem