As the ship exploded and sunk, her crew
died a hundred times.
Through portholes they saw the green sea,
getting darker; they couldn´t hear their own
screams as the noise of crushed iron´s was
louder, like hundred express trains hurdling
toward obliviousness
And then the sea blew open doors
filled every cabin with incomprehension
…and then, yes then, they died again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem