On trying and finally accepting, the inevitable: DEATH, translated…
On the Day I Dreamt of My Mother
I’d Not Checked the Albums on My Phone to See
If the Buddha Had His Eyes Lowered
If the Background was the Mountains or the Cliffside
Don’t Lie to Me, Just, Come All Out
The Lenses, Too Worldly
Can’t Switch to that Boundary
The Mothers of Others Kept Aging
Becoming Those, Old Yams, Old Taros with the Bearded Roots
Walking Slower, No Need to Rush
Take Your Children & Grandchildren, Dragging Yourself Along that Stroller
In the Early Evenings, the Swallows Returned Back to Springtime
That Stumbling Shadow with the Back Turned Had Always Been Mistaken by Me
That It Shall Be, Returned, to that Familiar Address
The Storyline Shattered, and Crumbled Multiple Times
Slowly I Knew to Hide, so I Can Accompany This One Dream
No Need to Argue, No Need to Tell the News
God Shall Come by, the Eggshell Broken
It’s Best that You’re, Taken Hostage
And Get Hatched and Become Anything Else
What’s Meant to Come in Eventuality, the Crowds Appeared in Black-and-White, Silent in the Freeze Frames
There’s Too Much Logic Underneath the Sun
Circling Oneself, Enveloping Oneself
Using a Lock, to Escape
I am, Out
Walked in a Straight Line with My Own Mother
Don’t Clench My Hands Too Tight, Don’t Rest
And, Don’t Blink
So this is, a man’s, coping with his own mother’s, death, because, of how his mother is, almost dead, and he is finally, allowing the fact of what’s, inevitable, sink into his mind…coping with this, loss that simply can’t be, avoided.
beautifully written
Thanks, i merely translated this one, glad you liked it!