At noon!
night awaits you but longer! ,
sun turns right 'Hottest',
sun turns left 'coldest',
and a long throat for an elite,
to come back with their books.
At night!
expecting arrival of travellers,
awaiting arrival of marketers,
imagine what could delay a bishop,
here comes my light old friend,
glimmering the streets and passages,
blessings of breezelings suffocate creatures.
i smile, i cry,
silence all around like a Golgotha,
pillows become your friends,
scared of creatures of physical powers,
your voices are a-less-up-loudable,
when you even muttered,
till the next page.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem