from The Night Fountain (Selected uncollected poems)
Serenity
Don’t throw away leftovers of bread;
there’s someone behind your door,
there’s someone whose hope is never dead
until they see your twisted face.
Serene, the light of morning
silently covers the dead dawn
and sleeps in its childlike eyes.
Translated by Marco Songozi, Gerald Dawe
Page(s) 149
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