desirous still of
changing
what ugliness is still
left
by lousy time
she wakes up
ahead of him and
walks
around the house
same routine of
boredom
circling until
she stops and looks
at the gray sky
where night stars
still hang
and glitter
so many things
she missed
and it is still
up there
perhaps she had
looked down
upon herself upon
time
and too earthly
there is more up there
that hints
about the mysterious
and the divine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem