you pretend that sleep is your friend
but sleep is honest enough to admit that there is something wrong
with the bed
the blankets are talking and the pillows
are protesting
your hairs are mad
your eyes as usual do not tell the lies
that your mouth and tongue have long mastered
and the teeth that grit
knows who at the end
shall win
your mind is not a friend of anyone
its insomnia the heart fears
can kill anyone
it is time to be cautious
wear the feet of the cat
perhaps be silent like the
floor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem