And I felt that death was an arrow
that flies from an unkown hand
and in a wink of the eye we die.
(Octavio Paz, The bird)

Everything brings songs of pain
Under the sky pouring the rain of tears.
Ulcer in the heart is all we have,
Nesting in the ruins is a reality,
With help, we drink a gulp of water.
Death, dead, number of deaths are the
Immortal words immortalised by death.

Jogjakarta, 29 January 2005


The French version is at: http://francais.agonia.net/index.php/article/100063/index.html