My wife travelled
The stove went dry
The gas evaporated
Through crevises
Carved by the famished rats
And the kindlings soaked
In a sea of rainfall
Smothered in smoke
And the creditors
Inside my tummy
Never reneged from
Asking their debt
Sleep, sleep sleep
Will you come?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
loved the desperation in rain soaked images verging into hunger :)