Wife and daughter do not love my late night ways
When silence draws me as a magnet
From the day's harried lanes
And house with them securely in it
Helps also shield from terrors
That often prove too great a force in solitude
And kill the strikes of black ink
Upon their white paper victim.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is too much pushing and pulling on the hours.. or so it always seems. One must hide from the daylight, literally or figuratively, in order to manage to write anything.