Of nowhere, red cliffs, for miles,
stolen land, you sleep
the dreams of tears.
Your lips, are not of mine, they cry
in my sleep.
Keep your weapons, they weep.
Gosh, have problems with this one, IIP. What do I make of it - here we go. The clincher is 'your lips..they cry in my sleep' (they do not smile) . The writer on the other hand is in stolen territory, stolen her lips(?) , her weapons, where he dreams of red cliffs of agonizing love. If so, she should keep her weapons, and why not.. they offer you nothing really. You dream different dreams. That's how I see it and then this is fantastic, Or am i wrong?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The last line cuts deep.