senses have eyes
deceived by
our all seeing eyes
if these 'eyelids'
would open to let
the other world
a bat of the eye away
comes through
the dead young man
his spirit at the cupboard,
stares and wonders
the state of my being
good as alive
would the curtain
between us lift itself?
or would some great mind
dissolve it in a great
pair of spectacles?
what a see through formulae
the glasses must carry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another way to look at it is spirit as an extension of ourselves which we have tried to cut off, an animus of existence. The young man's spirit in the cupboard is you which you refuse to let out - except through poetry. And you do, magnificently, using verse as your medium spectacles. IDC