I’M TIRED

—White writing tablet of homey visage
Stretched out impatiently
You itch for my caresses
I’m tired.
My head is empty
And my hand is numb
My spirit deadened
My soul strayed away.

………………………………….

No. I’ll not scratch you tonight.
I’m tired.
I’m going to the Forest of Sleep
To gather the flowers of dreams.
Until tomorrow
Homey writing tablet
Of white visage.
I’m tired.

1966.

Translated by Lenora Timm

This poem in breton





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