once i have it, there is this irony, i give it away,
i wish, i dream, i work to have what i do not have yet
once it is in my hand, there is this irony, i throw it away.
the paradox of feelings, i had this joy, long time ago, and
i let it go, and i wish it comes back to me, like a memory of someone
too far away, i spend life like it is not life at all, i wish death, like death is life,
like it is not like, this is the irony of my life,
hating and loving and hating and loving, until, everything is gone
i have nothing and then i feel so complete.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem