Brick by brick
we are building a future
with our own hands -
this is not easy:
we have not been trained;
our ground’s un-
even and our spirits re-
fuse the equilibrium
of rest;
at best,
no one
will kick us
out of the place we’ve made,
at worst
our future -
like our past -
will shake
and that will be that.
At any rate,
no unwelcome rat-a-tat at
a door
will close us in.
Meanwhile,
this
picking up of bricks,
this
careful placement of
impossible storeys
makes up our Life-
story.
Our house
is
lifted
up in our hands.
I can see that the scaffolding of your poetic voice is many storeys high. A building site of ideas, as each brick tells a different story. Your trowel trade skills have a towering effect. What I am trying to say is 'I like your poem'.10/10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice poem.......well written