Let there be none until we are dead
Let it wait until jackals scream
The scratching of their calls scoring across some brilliant sunset
which lies in the sky bleeding into the clouds
The last vestige of blue closing like grandfather eyes
For when the movie has finished, the journey home begins
Without a corner, the road is void of mystery
Sleep not only concludes the day but heralds the next
Without the moon, tides cannot turn
It is in itself a curse for the living
Too big a space to occupy without nightmares
Let there always be
Mangos on trees too high to reach
Poppies in fields too far to see
Bread in the oven, not yet cooked through
Let there always be
A flash of periwinkle blue in the waters
A book on the shelf unread
Chocolate in the fridge untasted
And
one more day together
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem