In this empty lot
Where children smile
And linger,
Empty, icy hands
Snatch with their vile
Fingers.
In these empty halls,
Where minds once grew
In trust,
A dead promise laughs,
An outrage new:
'We must'.
In this empty yard,
Where bones have broke
And healed,
It's itself, broken-
Though once it woke-
Can't feel.
In this empty face
(Empty heart
And mind
And all empty!)
Memories pass
And fade.
Where once it felt joy,
All that, at last,
Unmade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good one, out of the ordernary, but good none the less: 0)