Who has never had any thoughts
When she wraps herself into the bed of sleep
She had eyes reduced to the two worlds
One pulsing inside
The other pulsing outside
With the view at an emptied bowl of herself
Blinded
Trodden in a shadow blind
Within a bowl she dreams of a breakfast
Eaten up bitten up to the big nothing
That big nothing out of which
Vera who has never had any thoughts
When she wraps herself in the bed of sleep
She could build
Up to the point of wake
When life bursts out, my brother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem