a glimpse of your existence
that’s what is important now
even if tomorrow you are gone
and return at my door
three years after
to pay me another visit
to buy my soul
again
now means a kilo of rice
a pack of noodles
and cans of sardines
to live for another day
a big bargain
for one decrepit old woman
and her cats who lost their skins
fending off rabid dogs
on a famished road
I can be a patriot
another day
another time
snatch your breath
and some jewelry
and dip my forefinger
in your blood
and write at your door,
“Not guilty! ”
Because truly you are not
more guilty than I am
of the crime
for which we suffer
our own decay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am trying to figure out the subject matter of this piece but all sends me to admit that it a case of the guilty ones are always afraid. Please let me know if am right.