slowly you lift
the veil
and a face is shown
to my surprise
it is my own
this is the veil
of darkness
covering another dusk
of my own time
there is no word for
this
revelation there is
nothing to
described
what i disown
what i used to disregard
is actually
what i own what i am
what i was
and what i will be
it is sad
the women are sobbing
the boats left
that early morning
i look again at the
clarity of the pond
it is still my own
the face of my narcissism
the pain of my pleasures
the home of my home....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem