nearing time
a ring of stars told me the future is
the sea that you try to grasp with your
broken hands and the past will not be
changed it is stained with rust and flotsam
as your inside ebbs like a mossed ruin in
the dunes as salted grass fails to grow as
the wind shakes the waves you are alone
You were wondering if it would be read. It was. It's rather enigmatic. Not sure if I understand it all, but it was fascinating to read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, I read it though i felt it intriguing. Thanks for sharing.