My nights are long and lonely
and sleep is as illusive as an eel
in the depths where corals
even wish to die
i keep on remembering
what stories you keep on telling me
before we parted
tomorrow morning my eyes sink
deeper like a boat in a whirlpool
black dusts gather around the
the socket emptied of its lighthouse
perhaps i will write these stories
and keep them for a while
perhaps i will learn nothing
and throw them all away
like those old days that tried to
build our edifices of fun and trust
what foundations of love we
have we really set?
all the facade crumble into broken bricks
into dusts on the muddy ground
so we had it, happy, at the end,
after everything is over.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem