where is the dream cottage
of the years
gone by?
that nook of cool trees
hidden in one of those valleys
that dog that sleeps on the bamboo slats
on that verandah that faces the
green lagoon
the road that goes upon a dead end
the hope of greenness
the lavender venetian blinds that you close
one cold evening?
the emptiness has caught us
and we do not look around anymore
confined in a room
thinking about the next worse thing
that we
expect shall happen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem