What happened to your hands?
Why they are absent from your body
and your mind, and also your memory?
This is serious, it never existed anywhere.
Did you sleep, and didn't you feel the amputation?
And now, how will you pick up the diamonds
every day, and you will bring daily salt to your mouth,
and how to prepare lime for mortar
and for painting the building?
It is necessary to understand the situation,
making the prostheses
and rewiring memory - one way or the other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem