There are two
I dream of but
never concurrently
One comes to me
in the dark
of night
because he's so white
one cannot see him
in the light
of day
The other with
his darkish self
haunts my days.
In light he comes
for the contrast
with his soul,
with thousand promises
and a sack of coal
And I enjoy
their company
as if unwilling
to see
which one wants
good for me
and which aims
to destroy me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW This is a marvelous poem. It's the Self and the Anti-Self, Or Doppelgangers, Or Weird Twins. In any case, you wisely left the issue of which one is chosen open-ended, so the preternatural mood is sustained.