With my feet lifted
I hang out of balance
while someone skilful observes my eyes
and a bright painful light
shines into the depths of my eyes
seeing where the focus of my own cornea disappears,
measuring the deflection in my eyes,
seeing why and where my sight languishes away
and it’s like a rainbow
that deeper into my eye,
only still deeper wants to notch and spy
with rays in a wide circled bow
and when his eye later peeps at me,
he says look there
and let me look at another place
where he now feeds letters to my eyes
and with hard contact lenses I see like a falcon
but those things scratch, itch and pierce like a beam
there are furrows betraying the age of his face
and his teeth look like white lime,
my own freckles jumps out
and I forthright say to him
how much the lenses are bothering me
that there and then I want to throw them away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem