Translated by the author
We rarely say what hasn’t been said before
It breaks my heart and tongue.
Just as I was about to analyze
the anatomy of words,
My mind stopped under the pressure
of other people’s lines
There was nothing but the sky before
and not a bit has changed since
I’m looking at it…
A big lazy centipede of a cloud
Is about to swallow my favourite star
This pale blue sky in endless rebirth
Brings more than I can bear
The heat makes my senses loose
The air is filled with sticky thoughts,
Sticky fingers around a sticky pen,
Sticky, sticky words