I turn a belching volcano
when all my blood turns acid.
I shout like a street-corner speaker
when big hammers strike on wide walls.
I can not indulge in lotus-eating
when black snakes squirm on the paved floor.
I can not hide in my fiery poetry
when open streets call for the hit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem