Speed
I take things lightly
that perhaps are heavy.
For example, I know I'm the gap between two pavements,
yet I cross it as fast as I can — why?
And because I take risks with my voice,
I trip on air.
And the first bead of sweat that trickles down my forehead
drowns me.
I take things lightly
that I know to be heavy.
This is the truth.
Yet I am nothing but an illusion —
a lantern
lost in a forest.
And whoever comes across these words
will find a large stone.
You can easily
throw it in my face.
The literal translation of this poem was made by Anna Murison
The final translated version of the poem is by The Poetry Translation Workshop
© Poetry Translation Centre 2004-2012
riya says:
hmmmmmmm, nice poem