His leather belt

hangs on the wall,

the pair of shoes he left behind has turned brittle,

his white summer shirts

still sleep on their shelf,

his scattered papers

tell her that he will be gone a long time

but she is there still waiting

and his leather belt

is still hanging there

and each time the day ends

she reaches out to touch a naked waist

and leans back against the wall.

(Translated by Lena Jayyusi and W.S. Merwin)

From: Poems Of The Pavement (1980)