Just as the fire rages in the furnace
when the wind rushes through the stoker
you are blowing your breath all over
the coals of my anxieties
and the embers of my disorders are alight.
As the hammer
dipping into water, heating up in flames
beats molten iron
you beat my mind and emotions
the reach of my sorrow expands.
At times I feel: how marvelous is your handiwork
What sort of skill is this? Amazing—
What are you trying to make?
You are so lost in your effort
I am afraid to ask about your creation
lest I should hinder you.
Yet—should I stay quiet, asking nothing, I worry
some fearsome creation might take place
Tell me
how long you will keep stoking this fire?
How long will you beat my mind and emotions?
Could it be that you have mistaken me for metal?
A sublime start with a nice poem, Viplob. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.
lost in effort, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful, especially the last line. Keep flowing dear.
thank you so much! you are kind to me. love!