here again
go I:
sobering thoughts
minimum of doing
just thoughts of regrets
wishes
to turn back the clock
but
the clock is stubborn
and says:
'I must be logical
according to the mores
of the Earth
for as of the Earth
am I'
And I stop
And I bend my head down
As the bending
withering flower
touched by the sadness of
dusk
the numbness of chill
the indifference of dark
night
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem