I don't feel badly
about losing-
I've lost to you before
So don't feel as though
you have to even
up the score
You won't believe where
I just found myself-
up on a shelf, but
hardly seen. I'd sort of
gotten wedged between
your camera and your
lipstick case, but now
I've come back to erase
that look of triumph
from your face
Now-
Trace a shadow
upon the earth
Give birth to several
'good' ideas. In tears
return to conception point;
with herbs and oils I'll anoint
Your body and your temperament
The foolish charge
which you invent.
And spent, lie down
atop the trash
to burn into a piece of ash
I beg to wish for you to stay,
but am left to
watch you drift away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem