what time do we leave tonight?
we can start at six
i will fetch you
and take you to the place of your wanting
we shall dine
and have a lovely conversation
under the stars
by the sea on a restaurant
the open air
the one we didn't have when we were young
and always in hiding
now our white hairs speak a lot
some wrinkles
tell us of our dignity
our words are carefully chosen
woven not just by our hearts
but by our steady minds
disciplined by time
and agony
there is a lonely flower on the table
the accent of an affair long forgotten
by time
the food is served hot and spicy
white glutenous rice
and hot green tea
we do not like to eat much
we like the talk
we are like peeling
some potatoes
slicing some onions
and some tears
fall from our eyes
then we laugh
it must be the spices and the onions
not the past
now hidden, buried, and dead
the way we prefer
them now
as it is
not as they once were
unruly they all say
but really
still very exciting like the chase
of children
playing in the park one night
when the moon
was full
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem