that was what we heard then. something did happen
during the night. and it changed our lives.
we had slept on not wanting to listen
to uncertain noises, distant tumult
flares and ambulance lights in the rain.
many shadows fall on us while we sleep
the skin knows, ears hear, but we cannot see
(something moves at the edge of the prison)
what was that? should we look? go back to sleep
they have not invented the script yet
daylight rots like a week-old corpse. darkness
lies unimagined under the rocks
of our minds. we are different now. but
did anything rally happen in the night?
(in memory of 1975)
-April 19,1978
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem