Bluntly looking
for a form, almost,
for what
fades into
an aloof timelessness
immune to words
reality plays itself out
as if to one side
in the unbending
image of a boulder
without coincidence
nothing is self-evident
in the poet's kitchen
the window
keeping its shutters shut
jumps to mind
between the lines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem