I wait for cold weather to cure our leprosy
and freeze, of all insects, the black, demonic eyes.
When its breath, reddening mountain flanks and valleys
with a loud sob of joy cleans up the Northern skies
a blizzard of relief groans through my parted lips.
I close my eyes in peace as Time and the planet
seem to slow down and sleep…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem