1. There's a looming Hope
Striving to appear
Underneath my bed
A vanishing Stain
Reverses the process
My Dream indeed had
Openly and in vain
Resisted to being
No more than Nightmare
Or end of a Rope
With impending Gloom
Neither Sense or Scope
Neither found nor thaught
Also a tinge of something
A Circle or Quadrangle
In the mixed Strain
Was the Stain becoming
A decreasing Lord
Or was Devil hoarding
An increasing beam
Of Shatter and Despair
I absorbed and sought
I was trying to tangle
Hope and Stain and Lord
That God of Understanding
That negative reverse
I could not afford
A packaged circle
Or imploding sphere
Soft and cushioning
I strived to assess
That train of thought
Though I must confess
That all was for nothing
A nihilistic Square
A treacle bed gnawing
At a strange abscess
A honeysuckle here
And a Doom somewhere
Created as excess
On a bed of Gloom
Reinvented and thought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem