i do not give
interviews
when you ask my name
or my number
at most i can only tell
lies
and if you insist
i give dignity to your
questions
by not answering any of
them
somehow i have learned the
value of secrecy
ah, this privacy
this anonymity
and quiet desperation as
he terms it
this solitude of dimming lights
this silence of the dusk
this utter submission to
fading
i like the silence of the leaves
when they fall
which they feel as flying in the song
i like the silence of heaps
and mounds
i like the silence of silence itself
i like the way i meet you
when you pass me by
and pretend that you never know me
that we never had those nights
i like this distance that expands
that later on sees only
a dot
a haze of another horizon
i am this low profile
willing to be forgotten
it is like a prelude to dying
a little cry, and then
the acceptance of a wry smile
and then
the abandon
sweetest of all
your freedom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem