you're too young
like a seed still covered and without yet
a face,
and yet you have started so well
deeper than
Vulcan
in fact hotter than the
fire suppressed
within
the magma of two earths
you're too fresh
to wilt and tell the world about it
i am worried
at this moment when you begin
to put all your poems
in chapters of a book
like you are telling them
all that
you are finally gathering them
all
in order to quit
young man, rest for a while
do not hurry
this world spins and in our smallness
like ants
we shall never notice
any change
until we see another sunset
another faded day
another darkness of the night
where we are told
to take rest and sleep...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem