If like a broken plate we lie apart
I dream my dream, she reads her magazine,
A narrow passage opens up between
Two unforgiving coastlines. The long chart
Of our night is divided at the start
And does not mean a thing. Outwards we lean
Toward the stars and the light that have been
Sympathetic to solitary hearts,
Unless some passing shadow triggers
Our love, and we close up fast as a clam,
Shut like the halves of a book whose figures
Once secret are judged profane and are banned,
And sealed we will survive the rigours
With our pearl of knowledge, on our island.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem