Just trying out a response to a poem I am translating. But since the translation is not yet ready (waiting for someone to go over it for me!) here goes what I´ve written...for whatever it is worth!
A kind of faithfulness
worse than a whining puppy,
docile as a woolly lamb or a llama
begging for cookies. A kind of
faithfulness that accepts every sort
of betrayal, wears blinkers, puts on
a fresh blindfold to begin the day
and comes back, week after week,
to drink, at the same fountain,
tainted with poison. Years
that don’t teach, don’t cure.
A poison that doesn’t kill,
Just a slow sadness that makes you
Believe you are empty.
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