The lines of others are drawn as my face
And my face is far from being what I alone have made
And yet when I look in the mirror I know
My father was not simply here before me
We are closer to the few we love
Than to all the universe
The lines of my face
My mother my father my brother my sister and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very good poem, thanks.