buried beneath the almond
eyes
is the coffin of sorrow
with
the body of the dead which
you try
to hide forever
it has no epitaph
it can pass as just another
wall
of some insignificant house
that no stranger
may mind
this sorrow resurrects
in the iris and no matter how you try
to deceive your guests
with that waves and waves of laughter
the sonorous song of the sea
still makes itself heard
at the surface of
all pretensions
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem