There she lies on the bed
Like an invalid.
The room has no lights.
The small passages
Have been blocked with cardboards,
Which grow moldy each day,
With black spot all over.
Still they make sure
No light enters the room.
The room is damp.
The moisture has dampened the pillow
Or it’s her tears?
Do they even care?
Does she even exist?
Occasional pinpricks to make sure.
To stop the flow of the crimson fluid
She sits with a little shiny object.
The only object which seems
To gleam in the dark.
Its luster makes her think
Why not every human soul
Coated with molybdenum?
To shield it from pain
To prevent it from rusting
From time and grief
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one...the pain can be felt.