The grass is still wet
early in the morning
around my mat
in the Vondelpark
under the high dome
of vapour trails through
the blue sky above the city -
the space of my mind
My sense of reality crackles
fiercely in it, igniting
fuses in my head and
my feeling to be me
splinters for some time -
the remaining time
of -unknown -
is unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem