I will wear sunglasses,
so as to hide the tears which form in my eyes.
For a man is not supposed to cry,
so they say,
and because of this:
my heart I have kept in a safe.
But I will wear sunglasses all the same
for I am emotional as poets come.
As emotional as Thomas
who found solace in a bottle.
As emotional as Byron
who went to Avalon without a drink.
For my feelings I carry with me,
visible for you to see
like Magritte's apple stuck to a forehead.
Glasses which will be taken off
when I go to bed at night,
lulled to sleep by the stars,
my nightmares forgotten.
And when tomorrow comes
again, to put them on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem