So there is a party going on,
somewhere. She opened a door
and the light streamed out.
She was a good mother once,
or twice. Her smile said
'What, still in the dark? '
The light lit in my head,
light-house like. The door shut.
The new dark is very dark.
I cannot find the door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem