it is the loneliest journey
bus travel at night
the driver does not talk
to the conductor
the silence is the silence of the sleep of all the passengers
i follow the road
the signs are intact
there are only lights on the sides of the streets
the trees are black
the leaves are merely shadows
the world passes me by
in complete silence the scenes changes
and all so sudden
the world moves with me
the bus is a bullet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem