i mark that day
with the ending part of our
conversation:
it has
something to do with the
face of the criminal who
bugged you with
a silver knife at the subway
station and you were so shocked
and could not forget it
your money taken
and then you came to the
irrevocable
conclusion that
humanity is divided and that
some are simply of the
irredeemable kind
and must be put to sit
on electric chairs
for good
and i ask you to look
carefully at his face
at that time
when he was mad and
so needy
and find finally that he
too wears
the same face as yours
when you shall be
deprived of what you own and
have and keep and protect
for now
you are enjoying the world
that loves you
you are eating the expensive cuisine
on its table and
drinking the best wine from Italy
and staying at the Shanghai
hotel with a window facing
the Bund
savoring the beautiful
motion and lights of the river
look at him carefully
did you not see that he
has the face of God?
and then we stopped
right there
and you did not say a word
which i think
was the proper face of silence
of one who cannot
believe the truth
and i have never heard
from you again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem