It's hard to make sense
stranded in these seasons of turmoil
with a frenzied heart
and always on the verge of tears.
I've been unkempt and reckless
while separated from ancient friends;
I've walked through landmines in laughter
never knowing what I'm after.
When I saw you last,
we were wandering through
cities of disproportionate despair
searching with a magnifying glass
for any reason to care.
I've seen nuns bewildered
at religious shrines
while I was vigilant with votive candles
preparing to take a midnight flight
for any far-flung compassionate shore.
Every dawn, I'm desperate for
hopeful daylight friendships
to make me feel more reassured
that there is something other than a gun or a noose
behind the next door.
Once upon a time,
there were souls in my life
who attributed to me
the powers of visionary elucidation
and vivid imagination.
Ah, but now, I only want to rest
in the perfect confines of your eyes
uninterrupted for days
if only this fever and delirium would pass.
I've never had a genuine love
nor answers to any questions you could ask;
there are no guarantees
for the satisfaction of your needs;
so, in self-preservation, let's make a swift retreat
from this existence of unparalleledsorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem