And so you have fallen again,
Clatter, clatter –
Attracted to the corners.
The dirtied yellow bird upon the base,
Away it flew.
Maybe it has simply vanished,
For I cannot see through –
Maybe I had long since given it away.
Where the water siphons through.
Oh how you perched up there,
Sitting like a wise owl upon the cradle.
Chirping to the infant
And turning the cries into your valuable;
Tapping upon the mobile.
Where is that star?
Where is the moon?
Oh bleak they have become,
And they’re reaching out to you,
Where you can neither breathe nor coo –
But I am still here waiting for you.
The garments shall be cleaned in a day,
Red speckled and inexact.
The rain shall cleanse you too,
Even the soil is fallible,
There it shall go,
Off into the blue;
Like the seashells I never took back to you.
There is nothing left within this little box,
And so it shatters in two.
The illimitable downward spiral.
Pick it up, pick it up again
And stick it back together with glue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem