The addiction to writing
Is worse than drug
Addiction to
shabu
Or marijuana
You want solitude
You do not talk
You shy away from friends
And your wife
Misunderstands your silence
As coldness of a lover
“Do you still love me? ”
it is worse
there is no hospital for writers
there are no rehabilitation centers
where they diagnose
you for an addiction for a certain
precise disease
why this man prefers solitude
why he does not dance
why he does not talk anymore
there is no drug prescribable
to this addiction
there is no doctor
there is no cure
meanwhile the symptoms keep
manifesting
looking beyond the window in deep thought
sleeping late and waking earlier than usual
He lives too far from everybody
Kin, friends, lovers, and country
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem