A POET WITHOUT A POEM
A poet without a poem
Empty and desperate
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THREE TIMES OF PRAYER EACH DAY
My poems are more of morning than of night-
And of afternoon least of all.
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THE POEM OF THE DARK NIGHT
The poem of the dark night
It is a poem of looking far away and dreaming
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I sit and drink and wait for my coffee
To be finished
In the midst of such a crowd
Can there be a poem?
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I grow impatient with myself
I can no longer write long works
I must move and finish fast
So that I can jump to the next thing
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I CANNOT ESCAPE
I cannot escape
I make the same efforts
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WHEN THE POEMS GO
When the poems go
I will go
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THE SOUL COMES BACK AGAIN
The soul comes back again-
It may lose itself many times
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IF ONE CANNOT GIVE HOPE
If one cannot give hope
If one cannot help in any way
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I AGAIN COME OUT OF DESPAIR
I again come out of despair
Yesterday was a desolation morning
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