do not be that serious
poetry is not
serious about you in fact
it leaves you where you are now
alone, feeling rotten, dropped
potato, cut flower, vase with
a mosquito for another disease,
so, why not be a hanky-pansy,
dancing under the sun with
nothing on, and when people
think that you are crazy
and pour much attention, then
that is the price you get for
being this poetess, unadmired
for seriousness, unrewarded for
so much effort,
all the candles burn themselves
at night, and then nothing is left.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem