Dance
Between sleep and unfulfillment
I dance at the edge
of the circle of flames.
oh that my rubber arms
would at last take fire!
the tombstone I always carry
I wrapped in the gift-shroud
from my family,
they expect something from me,
I’ve no idea what.
translated by
Adam J. Sorkin and Mariana Dan
Niculina Oprea
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dance-50/
