His tired gaze--from passing endless bars-- has turned into a vacant stare which nothing holds. To him there seem to be a thousand bars, and out beyond these bars exists no world. His supple gait, the smoothness of strong strides that gently turn in ever smaller circles perform a dance of strength, centered deep within a will, stunned, but untamed, indomitable. But sometimes the curtains of his eyelids part, the pupils of his eyes dilate as images of past encounters enter while through his limbs a tension strains in silence only to cease to be, to die within his heart. Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming
Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 12:47 PM | Viewed: 7354 times
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