you sing and i write
you sing louder
and i write some more
as i do not sleep
as early as you
want to
to sleep with you and keep you warm
and keep you happy
and so secure
and then you stop singing
as i still go on writing and writing and writing and writing still
without minding that you already stopped singing
and you wished
that this house burns itself
that i too burn myself with it
that i may finally become ash
that i finally be blown by air as nothing but dust
and then she may finally continue
her singing and even dancing
and learn to fiddle the strings her new violin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem