Behind the curtain,
The futile actors
Are preparing,
To create scenes
We've seen,
Many times before.
Behind the veil,
Virgin truth remains silent.
Behind the wall,
The screams of
Emaciated spectres.
Behind your eyes,
The myriad sorrows
Of all the slow,
Tortured centuries.
Behind flowered summers,
Bleak winters of despair.
Behind the dream,
The endless horrors
Of the abyss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem