At the time of breaking of certainties,
When my eyes express absolute truisms,
Shelley’s Wild West Wind seems chilling
On such a hot sweltering day.
Loneliness came by the other day,
Not in person;
It was the understanding of its swamping power.
Quiet Liturgical music,
And the sun going down,
And me by myself –
No language, No sport, No team:
Lost meaning in a lost circumstance.
Just the odd lifting of my head,
To make sure nothing is moving,
And that I’m still in the same position
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And that I’m still in the same position. Like a mannequin on the move. Wonderful and spectacular.