* * *
So, that's like a shadow said: «I was one of us.
I also used to cry; I was alive and tender.
But now I bear the name of the eleventh month,
I am November».
Thy shadow had completely lost the words you used to know,
And there’s no need to hope or call someone to help you,
That’s why to you your soul
feels less than wind and snow,
You know you’re melting.
Please, hang your stone coat on a pathetic hook,
I'm begging you to stop the freedom of denial.
Please, open your sighted eyes like a forgotten book,
For seeing and crying.