(after Jan de Bruyn)
You were the one,
the one who could still love me
when my life was destroyed, turned to rock,
with my dreams laying shattered
and with my trampled name
destiny had cut me to pieces,
a so-called holy man confirmed it to you
but you wanted to stay away from me
and maybe you were haughty,
had no comprehension, or a urge for self preservation
or a type of aloofness
that hanged over me like a guillotine
and you were much too scared
when I longed for you the last time.
[Reference: “Joune was die laaste deur” (Yours were the last door) by Jan de Bruyn.]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem