The dog still shed its hair,
The counterpane wasl torn,
I thought your love
Would put it all in order
When I came.
I was astonished by the dirt,
Was it left deliberately
To satisfy my shame?
You praised yourself
For coping with the children
In my absence,
But to bring me home
Without a single spoken word
Was unforgiveable,
Like stamping on a flower
Already dead.
You praised yourself For coping with the children In my absence, But to bring me home Without a single spoken word Was unforgiveable, Love and pray your good poems, really heart of heart and its love make this nice lovely poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
one of the most powerful expressions of disillusionment I've read, Philippa: both what's said and what is implied (I guess it's true that all poems have a 'subtext', an atmosphere they bring to life) .