Daily Suicide (After The Albanian Of Bardhyl Londo) Poem by Anthony Weir
Daily Suicide (After The Albanian Of Bardhyl Londo)
We kill ourselves every day
At grubby tables in the café
At the polluted racks of newspapers
In corrupt circles and sordid intrigues
We slowly kill ourselves
And of course we don't realise it.
Eventually the moment comes:
to take out the revolver -
but you can't pull the trigger
because you are already
a long time dead,
and it is well known that
the dead can't kill themselves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 12:33:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the twisted mind in this one Anthony! lol Sorry! I know I should not laugh at death, but it is a habit and you know how are they are to break? 10 from dying for a laugh! Tai