A black mirror stood in the corner
The snow-white walls make it look more swarthy
Its frame is made of black wood
Its mirror surface shows a cyan light
I can see it in the mirror
Ten years later
Self after death
The unborn self
There is a lonely person
with a sad face of their own
Get out of this room
There is no sunshine outside
Only the dark and quiet night sky
Under the night sky, I think of years later
How lonely is the dead self
I'm afraid of loneliness
So I went back to the house
and smashed the black mirror
It's dead
I will no longer love it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem