The wrath is depicted,
he refuses to be feared.
Even though everything is on the floor,
thrown out in a reversed ambush
of Tina’s shadow,
for the scared hobbling journey-
of the half child, halfway mad around him, the shining comedian,
but he knows:
from the stage images spin out to the horizon,
where what they act is stitched into dreams
that does not feel shackled in.
The stage closes in due time in the evening,
with a attempted hour that shrinks
to how it could have been -
hidden sentiment falls on dead ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem