(Frustrat, translated from Maltese by Alfred Palma)
Amid a field,
alone
I till non-irrigated land.
Wet with slow-falling droplets
that are my tears,
mummies surround me.
And in my mind echoes
sarcastic laughter.
A large dark cloud around me
and I run in bad weather.
And I seek shelter
during the night,
hope for a change of season
and that the wind dies down.