so many things
images, fluttering, hovering,
passing you by,
and you the spectator
merely stand there
and they who look at you
think that you are there
strongly held by your two
feet
if they only know
you are no longer there for
you are taken
and lost and somehow make
that compromise that
a promise to be back
in a little while
and be
like everybody once more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem