Portraits of the dead
On the shelves and tables
Dead people smiling at me:
Inhabiting lost days and fables.
Portraits of the dead
Now moved on to new dimensions
Dead people here no longer:
All their movements in past declensions.
Portraits of the dead
Gone past the event horizon
But forever frozen, hovering there:
From my vantage point, it's not surprising.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem