it is this painstaking
choice of words
for a nice handiwork
knitting some fairies
in some
mathematical colors of threads
some butterflies
and flowers in bright colors
using strictly the mandate
of numbers
a painting in cloth and threads
taking her
time
when she is finally
hypnotized
falling into a deep sleep
inside a room
where she is alone
on a dim light
of her loneliness
i open the door
to check on her
inside the cramped room
i see the handiwork of God
a woman so indulged
so engrossed
in her art
so weary
and dedicated
in passion sleeping.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem