The pane you are gazing through will soon crack
Leaving a picture of empty cardboard
An expression now seldom looking back
Upon visiting the terminal ward
One or two mutters would provide relief
A subtle hint that all is as it should seem
To drought the pain emerging underneath
This is no nightmare, but a pleasant dream
Pretending the subject does not lie here
In a sterile, unwelcoming abode
Placate the mind to eliminate fear
All debts collated are no longer owed
Now sit contently with your cup of tea
An equilibrium, for all to see
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem