on those early mornings
while father was out
to the sea to check if
his fishermen
were cheating him
i was left on the shore
alone
writing with my finger
some words on the sand
and for which the waves rush
to erase
all of them perhaps afraid
that someone
outside the family could read
what we have
been hiding
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem