(For Anna +February 20,1989)
I gather you Beloved
Space of word moment of flesh
And here is all I have
Mementoes and scents of intimacies
Memory of a hundred faces
Presence in the eyes of our son
Gestalt of shadows
Death in disguise
The rest of you homeless
As clouds and flow of rivers
To my touch O come
Trace me poor in spirit
Filled with a naked self
And the certitude of stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem