Dead girls in dorm rooms,
their lover unknown.
Here I think back
to all the dead Eves
naked in the image of Africa,
of Auschwitz
Where the caterpillar in the cricket
Is still creaking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Spare, powerful, haunting lines. This is a poem worthy of the name. Kindest regards, Sandra