A barber cutting hair in a mirror
Lets the hair fall from scissors
Out of the mirror's frame
Into the river of time.
The seamstress measuring
A length of reflection
Before marking with chalk
The material of the immaterial.
Night traffic in a mirror
Like a city photograph
That melts its neon
Over the raining light.
A mirror that shows flowers.
A door that opens without opening,
And lightning in rain showers
With thunder infolding.
The saddest rake in the world,
Raking leaves in a mirror
As though it danced alone.
The most invisible point,
Lovers looking at each other
For the last time in a mirror.
Tables, curtains, paintings
And other unintended interiors
Are parts of the sum of mirrors.
The wind blowing in a mirror
Equals the weight of time
That goes unnoticed.
The coldest mirrors melted,
Drowning the stars
And flooding the earth.
The longest rains
Fall in the country of mirrors.
The shortest day was recorded
In the almanac of mirrors.
Time so infinitesimal it is stopped
By a mirror like a hummingbird heart.
Music and mirrors are such intimates
Degas painted a mirror of dance.
All the violence and not even a ripple across the surface.
The mirror left an immaculate oval on the wall.
Mirrors and clocks: machines that have agreed not to merge.
Monet's waterlilies-a mirror in water.
Mirrors in mirrors, the music of loss reflected in love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem