水に流す

[When I wake up earlier than you and you are turned to face me, face on the pillow and hair spread around, ] 

From “Glow” poem 

When I wake up earlier than you and you are turned to face me, face on the pillow and hair spread around, I take a chance and stare at you, amazed in love and afraid that you might open your eyes and have the daylights scared out of you. But maybe with the daylights gone you'd see how much my chest and head implode for you, their voices trapped inside like unborn children fearing they will never see the light of day. The opening in the wall now dimly glows its rainy blue and gray. I tie my shoes and go downstairs to put the coffee on.  

¿Qué tendré para desayunar? Desearía tener unas ciruelas como las del poema de Williams. Él se disculpó con su esposa por comérselas pero lo que no hizo fue disculparse con quienes leerían el poema y tampoco podrían comérselas. Es por eso que me gusta su poema cuando no estoy hambriento. Ahora mismo no me gusta él ni su poema. Esto es sólo para decir eso.

What will I have for breakfast? I wish I had some plums like the ones in Williams’s poem. He apologized to his wife for eating them but what he did not do was apologize to those who would read his poem and also not be able to eat them. That is why I like his poem when I am not hungry. Right now I do not like him or his poem. This is just to say that.