I get to know
my other father
by making trips
with you and wherever
we are you know something
about him to tell
and so I see
besides the memories
myself in other mirrors
Light falls on features
I know but that now
seem to cast other
shadows in this cave
of my thoughts, longing
for the warmth of the sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem