Black velvet trails its folds over the day.
We light candles to bless this fevered night.
Our hands are folded in prayer. This is now
The way in which, we as exiled artists,
Resolve our plight. And we commemorate
Old friends long gone. Then we dissolve into
The silent heart of the world. We dissolve
Into the mysteries all around us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem