An imp spent the night in my dreams
Hatching subluniary schemes
Tricking me into singing old songs
And going down roads of forgotten wrongs
The marionette devils have their way
Among the wounded healers
That evil attacked first
Who were marked by immortal feminine powers
From birth
The wooden horse stares blankly
In the corner collecting dust
The tin toys are all boxed up
On the eve of the cherub's jubilee
"What from my childhood has been stolen from me? "
Eternal Memory
On her landscapes play
The repeating characters
These glass eyes shatter into tears
My secrets shrivel as they burn
And standing behind me in blue robes
Is a being in charge of the repose
Of sadder things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem