I saw his gaze in the mirror,
My gaze was superior for miles.
The innocent way of smiling became real,
His gaze fell from grace to a level
Of importance too known by some.
The mirror’s atmosphere nears function,
Too little are the buttons to press.
May superior art beam on us from afar,
And let windows be mirrors for their art.
A bedazzled crew of workers labour
Night and day, for the cleaning is in order.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem