Emily [EN]

I live not for truth –

Nor beauty or pain.

I walk in the graveyard

And look for her tomb –

Where she combs the moss

Out from her lips.

Quietly, I stand there –

And envy those unborn souls,

Eaten up by Earth’s womb,

Growing from the ground

Like dusky oaks

while I break myself down

And apart until their branches

Fill up the evening.