On death & dying, translated…
In This Place
The Trees on the Sidewalks Outside the Windows
Seemed Extraordinarily Distant
The Pedestrians Don’t Make a Sound
Passing Across Those, Dangerous Crosswalks
with the support one needs at the end of one’s life, not my photograph…
A Few Parasols Were Blown to Pieces
In the Raging Winds
The Skies are Filled
With the Signs as Usual
The Purity of the Clouds Resembled that of White-Washed Cottons
The Light from the Dusk Looked Like Blood
Like Those Deceased Loved Ones
Here, We’d, Whispered So Softly
No Longer Hurrying to and fro
The Couples Who’d Been Mean to One Another
Now, Held Hands, Shook Hands, and Made Amends
The Children Who’d Visited the Parents Once Every Year in the Past
Now Shows Up Often
Due to Fear of Death
We’d Come, to Respect Life
(Especially for Those, Whose Lives are about to be, Gone)
Because the Sorrows Weren’t Expressed
So, the Tears Started, Acting Out
The Various Scenes
Here, I’m Guessing
That Everybody Feels Elated?
This Final Passage of Life
With the Never-Ending Supplies of Morphine
Along with the Professional Medical Staff Members
They are All, Very Gentle & Kind
The Sun Also, Became Very Punctual
Entering from the Windows
And, Retreated Where It’d, Entered
Although Life Was Never, Fulfilled
As the Days, Cut Short
But Here, We’re able to
Have Some Time, to Remember the Days Gone Past
very aged…not my photograph…
With a Little Extra Time, to Pack For Ourselves
Ready to Leave
Headed, to Another Place
And There’s, Enough Evidence that Showed
That We Will All Surely, Get Some Peace & Quiet There
So, this is, the words, of a sick, ailing, dying man, I suppose, the individual had, checked into the hospice for a while now, and, s/he is just, waiting, for life to end, and, s/he had already, come to accepting, that life is, about to be over, that, is why, there’s, no fear, no anger in the “tone of voice” of this poem.