when you speak
in whispers
to me
like some
kind
of vespers
like some
code
of the cicadas
i have
actually
second
thoughts
listening
i am
afraid
i always
remember
the kind
of deaths
fit
for my
godfather
lots of
little deaths
and i
ask, which
one
which one
is the
happy death?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem