(to C)
How far you went in the mellow morning that I woke up in to find you nowhere among the complains of the sparrows or among the nylon strings where I used to find you putting clothes for dry bathed in the morning cream of the sun that had rolled over the blue canopy year after year till they were nine in all? How long would each hour of this day drag and roll in the unquenched void that is in me that cannot be filled by the faraway honking of the cars the chatter of the children and the crows nibbling at the neighbourhood litter as they were around me and you year after year till they were nine in all?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it needs a deeper understanding to feel its meaning... Nice one.'-