and now we are tamed as a mirror
translated by PLS
let the ambition-less youngsters die quickly
so that those who should be normal can grow normally
the world has given you a diagnosis: an illness of innocence
which has all the symptoms forbidden to be discussed
those who agree to be treated pretend to be strangers
explaining the past as they want to fight against remorse
we are fattening, bulletproof
going home I
translated by PLS
the poem hides itself in the dictionary
the youngsters hide themselves in books
you don’t exist if no one reads
the punctuation marks left behind
unable to find a place in the city, nor return to the village
losing newline losing metres losing the ambition to reform languages
losing a comma,
once,
a permit to breathe
to tear a manuscript is to harvest a courage
therefore yearning is a privilege too
those who have earned enough dignity
please get on the returning bus home for me