you know this by
heart
that when you are in the middle
of that journey
to love
a boat between two ports
sailing
in the quiet history of
the silent bursts
of ecstasy
you never mind the impending
sickle of death
beside the busy bed
the eyes are closed
the bodies giving off heat
fire so much fire in the hearts
no one is running
no one is running for help
this is love, this is love
that no one wants to share
with anyone else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem