In my eyes there are butterflies, a felt hat, mirror and a candle.
In my eyes there are women, an apple, trees and a bird.
In my eyes there are clocks, a key, cloud and the sky.
In my eyes there is everything, except for you.
Even the wings of the butterfly and the nice felt hat cause me sadness.
Because you are not here, the sun is not yellow and the tree is not green.
If I can’t see you and I can’t hear you,
I don’t need ears and eyes, I don’t need anything.
In the dark, in the dark alone, you appear,
There, where the whole world, time and existence, grow dim.
I will close my eyes, therefore.
Oh, this burdening light, this burdening sun…
L Ölziitögs (born 1972) Mongolia
Translated by Simon Wickham-Smith
Source: Best American Poetry
Another good find
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