You react to see the
delusion. I map your face on the fire.
After a kill would you wait for the end time?
No one gambles nowadays.
How do you walk on the sand painting, so
no one rises from the dead body?
I put on my palm a slice of
future to read the god's command. Some
one laughs at my back and shouts, you are the god.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem