Your face is that of all the others
before you and the ones which will follow you
but always there eyes calm as waters blue
and I lock myself away as a secret exposed
between sheep of silk saluting my ship ran ashore
Always halfway home scars leading me back to you
faces passing in strangers the eyes of brothers new
happenings of you and the make-believe not true
Every sounds repeats you
Every building thinks you
Every siren sounds you
Every scream rejects you
My days spent searching for the weapon which wrongs you
My nights roams the body of your rights in vain
My only fear the realisation of your blood too pure
My blood running thinner than water spitting on you
Just another number
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem