The night roared
With a surreptitious enmity.
I am cajoled into
Beautiful tapestries -
I am a maudlin.
I am acquiescent,
Take it lightly with the shards
Of glass.
This cold blue stares at me
With its uncouth eyes as if
Talking to me with
A shrilling, resolute voice:
The only terrible thing in this
Void is that when you believe,
You have signed a contract
With death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem