Classic Poem

His bed is like his death.
The prince lies down and
the princess:
two shadows abandoned on
an island.

In my island the sun does not rise, nor set
shadows do not grow shorter
nor longer
nor change.
People are not born on this island,
the shadow
sees only its dubious reflection
in the mirror,
never its conscience!

Island-world grows bigger
time grows bigger
the two shadows move.
Under the weight of night and day
of the noonday sun
Death is born to man
and the cursed and angry devil
is born to the island.

Time revolves,
it drowns man and his death
and the island.
Nothing is left
but the noonday sun.
Without man's shadow.