I am the joy that you don’t have to feel,
Back alone with your thirsty family, don’t move a muscle:
Hear the train calling to no one;
It knows where to move;
But you always say that you will marry me tomorrow,
And you wear the gold that I bought you:
You don’t seem thirsty:
Perhaps your body is a brown river, hallucinating and going
Back and forth,
Harping in the school bus that is miles away, taking away
Your son to imaginary places:
Maybe he will fall in love with a princess and her sisters in
A crystal house,
While I wait alone in my home, the lions curling about me,
As we all dream about you, Alma,
Just as the first man dreamed about his fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem