As I open the window <br />another day’s arms embrace me, <br /> <br />I sell myself to a different sort of sleep <br />that waits in ambush. <br /> <br />on the back of the page <br />lines scattered at random <br />stab my eye, <br />my brain <br />my heart. <br /> <br />the golden triangle <br />its points fully engorged <br />will be sniffed out <br />by bloodhounds from the wasteland. <br /> <br /> <br /> translated by <br /> Adam J. Sorkin and Mariana Dan<br /><br />Niculina Oprea<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-golden-triangle/
