Late in life
I am callous
I am tender
and I have wasted my time
dreaming without sleeping
sleeping while walking
everywhere I’ve gone
I’ve found myself absent
I belong nowhere
except the void
But I carry hidden high up in my bowels
At the spot where lightning has too often struck
A heart where each word has left its mark
And where my life trickles away with the slightest movement
(English translation by Michael Tweed)
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