from outside
I looked at the city
surveyed it and smiled
I walked in
who would ever want to live here
I wondered
on entering
I never went back
once inside
I closed the door
and sat down to write a poem
outside a breeze was blowing
I dreamt there was a little light
somewhere emerging
I think a bicycle stood in the rain
and a child was coming home
and I wrote the poem
which had no breeze no light
no bicycle no child
and
no door
I was trapped inside
the city
your heart
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem