WHEN THE POEMS GO
When the poems go
I will go
There will be no more
I will have done
All I could have done
Perhaps that was nothing
Perhaps I am already done now
Perhaps I was done before I begun
Fifty years of nothing
Holding on as if it were something
When really all the time
It was nothing
Nothing to nothing to nothing
The triple-play-of a single life
Writing another small –piece of nothing
As if it were something ‘now’.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem