there is fire within me
which is well
contained, though every night
it wants to burn me
or eat me, but which i have
domesticated for years in such a
way that with one word i utter
it stays on its place, sits like
a dog, and dances when told.
if i did not have that skill
i would have been burned a long time ago.
i would have turned into ashes.
and the fire would have devoured
you too, one who thinks that i am
the happiest man in the house
where fire does not exist.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem