at this hour
i hear the sounds of a sweeper
it just rained today
and i am watching how it ends
in the balcony of the house
where the road is empty
the woman across the road
is sweeping the leaves
the wind as usual blows
and then leaves what it cannot
carry,..very much like us
very much like that woman
she sweeps and groups the leaves
and leaves them all there
only to be blown by the wind
again as i watch what too
i cannot carry with me for
i am just a spectator whose
deep thoughts are carried by
the wind only to be left inside
with me again. How can i end
something that does not leave me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem