The line observed.
Its angles transparent,
Like the fanciful dream of a sliding geometry.
It's the hint of curve that plagues me
of a slender and willful architecture.
It's the acute optics that pitch me downward
into a maze of unrevealed canvas
unearthed and unexplained
and spreading into the heart of oblivion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem