Mourned to be the one.
To wake.
To live.
To see.
To walk.
Alive but dead.
Days by day, my oasis lives by the colour of night.
Energies of the living, absorbed.
To live in the between of dead.
Peace to be found, the yard where we spade the graves.
Where tombs act the way of stones.
The dead of the flowers, vase the portrait of a future to be.
Flesh to earth, invested to be inverted.
Still born.
Aged we pass to birth.
To be boned.
To die in death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem