Marble eyes
overflowing with black water
And a fragment of the stars
Eyes that see
Eyes that gaze
Eyes that wonder
When the first raindropp will touch her soft cheek
Durable lips
Hold the frame of his porcelain features
Drawing clever dimples
As he mocks himself
Spirals of hair, course down her shoulders
Like a waterfall, for ever and a day
trying to reach bottom
His sturdy jaw-line, is the only detail
Worth painting
For it’s the only actual feeling
The despair, of
Two puppets
Bound
By their loose legs
And dangling strings
With nothing
But wooden heart beats
To make the time
withering
On a puppeteer’s shelf
One day,
He will light a cigarette
He will blow smoke in their face
He will wait
He will smile
He will feel their eyes water
He will disturbingly watch
Their first
And last tears
As he throws them
Into the winter stock of wood
For the fireplace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very beautiful. i like the way you write.