The world did not invade my soul, it seeped into it
it did not break into my heart, it ate into it.
It spent long wakeful nights in the corner of my room,
a radiance round its head like a halo.
Did it want to comfort or torment me,
deliberately trimming the wick of my sleep-lamp?
Lull me? Rile me? Soothe me? Upset me?
Bind me in any way? Did it even want
anything at all? Perhaps at an hour
when my pupils shrank to pinpoints,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem