Sleep in the Afternoon
The world he knew is disappearing,
erased, first the afar blue mountain vanished
then the steppe the horses that galloped
to the stream of cold water and freedom
to drink without fear of the lasso.
His village too has been erased, he looks out
sees a blank screen and shudders.
He tried to go out once but when he turned his house
was about to disappear and he hasted indoors, narrowly
reduced to a dot in the landscape of blankness.
He has taken to his bed in a half sleep,
thinks of nothing, his mind is blank, dreams gone
and no religious illusion disturbs him.
On a beam in the barn hangs a rope it was for him
but he lost the strength, his cowardice is absolute.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem