in this affluent neighborhood
noise is a stranger
it is kept away by the fences
that keep taller
every year
by the bushes that are trimmed
like pillars
by the vines that stick like
epoxy on
the walls of their houses
by the turrets that look to the road
always with suspicion
there is always the feeling of
fear and loneliness
on every gates
which by the way are mostly
painted blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem