The Corpe's Room
A room, blinds lowered, a candle on the floor
And on the floor a naked shirt vivified by its fear;
The shadows of nails on milk-white walls,
Now neither rustling nor sound of footfalls.
He lies flat in bed, all tall and long and dead,
Covered in a sheet pulled up to his head.
On the bed-clothes his toes leave their trace,
By candlelight so wan and languid and dull his face.
Hands to his sides, last breath spilled from his breast,
Eyes, a colored window, on the nailed wood ceiling rest.
At the corner of his d"oping lips there is a line,
A little line, tiny, trembling for just a bit of time,
An instant hanging on his drooping lip atremble.
Clearly he went of a sudden without a struggle.
This is my own death, this is death for me.
When mine has come, this is how it will be.
Üstadın "Ölünün Odası" adlı şiirinin İngilizce çevirisini sizlere faydalı olabileceğini düşünerek ekledik.
Çeviri: Walter G. Andrews