at 82 Ron is
becoming more realistic
he just fell from a
stair so he has bruises
after rolling over
he cannot hear that much
he speaks to no one
no one cares for him
that is what he thinks
he imagines that in
twenty minuteshe
would die
he creates an angle of
his neck towards north
pops out his tongue
and closes his eyes
this Christmas he has
but one wish
but God is not
giving it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem