'What is on your mind? '
you ask - I
know not.
I can recollect
the pain in my wisdom teeth,
the sprain in my left ankle
the nocturnal head-aches
the vision blurred on my scratched glasses
and the lonely nights
'What is on your mind? '
you repeat -
'you are always, love' -
this is how a dream undone,
a warrior surrenders to rest,
resurrects a liar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem