Circular System - NR. 13 Poem by Paul Bogaert
Circular System - NR. 13
One takes a quantity of details
as if preparing for an operation.
At once the slaves of eloquence rivet themselves
together. A shiver makes ready.
How quickly one feels moved!
How quickly one becomes dependent!
How quickly tempted by something that fits!
One does not see the castle moat.
One hears a choir, a splendid song.
A crowd led off into captivity.
Translation: John Irons
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/5/2024 2:33:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
