An Afternoon Poem by ion untaru

Turned home in an afternoon
from my office
I found street unchanged
but my home missing

My hopes of every morning
evening changed in fears
and broken my sleep

The man having no what to eat
don't longer thinks
to a high career

But when he reaches
to his dayly bread,
he wants to take bread
the one who is weaker than him,

After painting a good picture,
painter housed himself inside

how much burning, so poetry
how much suffering, so much art

(translated from romanian)