On all the prayers and vain
the lingering anxiety
taught the deciduous branches.
The rain at dusk
as if connecting greetings
so that the bruises
be washed away; far
to the glow of resignation
in my solitude.
The fragrance of the season
faintly bland
left behind everything that had flared up.
The smoke of the parlour
has vanished
into a darkness
that I cannot name.
Atambua,12 March 2024
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very heart warming poem. Very nicely crafted. Thanks.