mother tells me
that whatever i wish
i must write on a small white sheet of bond paper
write them all clearly so the gods may read them
and perhaps grant them
out of mercy
and i do
more than what she instructs me
i write my wish clearly in bold letters and i roll the paper
like a cigarette
and put them
in a jar with sand and incense
and i burn all of them
the smoke rises
it has hands and feet and mouth
the hands knock on the door of the gods still sleeping
the feet dance the message
and the mouth keeps its humble silence
for who knows? the gods will listen
the gods will take pity on me
the gods will know that someone down there is silently crying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem