SEEMS MINUTE HAND HAS PETRIFIED,
EVERYTHING SO STATIC, SO SULK
AS IF NOTHING ABIDE'S
BOOKS ON MANTELPIECE
WINDOW WITH BEELINE HEAD
MOTIONLESS FAN WITH 3-HANDS
THAT, PARALYZED SHOE RACK
BREATHING THE ONLY DISTURBANCE
MYRIAD THOUGHTS'
KEPT ON ARISING
CONFLICT WITH SLEEP
PROVES TIRING
AND, SLOWLY SLOWLY
I AM DROWSING.....
Everything in the room induces drowsiness and you too slip slowly into a kind of weary slumber! The drab atmosphere of the winter night is projected through powerful images!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Winter is a widely accepted subject for poems and here the poem so interesting.