whirling fire outside my planet
a dot of light for my baby child
so far away she doesn't care
would it continue to show me
where i'm going at night, maybe
but who am i thinking future
unaware those are light-prints
traveling vast sky, they're dead
if you see river that's sign of end
mountain being drain every second
for a longer time and no rain, gone
can't point fingers, cycle my friend
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem