Day to day,
It seems
My body is floating…on its back…,
Weightlessly,
Drifting carelessly
As a holidaymaker, on
An inflatable bed
Lounging atop the cerulean body
of a swimming pool.
But that pool below is, in fact, an ocean.
And underneath that flat blue canvas,
Down in its blind depths,
Is life itself, and
its motions.
As I recall,
I cease immediately to be,
A rubber dinghy,
Floating freely
And plunge in - suddenly -
Like a leaf caught in a current,
Thrashing in the waves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem