a self-reproach
in a sense
equates itself
with compassion
you punish
yourself and
sometimes
more than
necessary
like your hair
that hangs on
your forehead
lashing your
eyelids
trying to pursue
what your
eyeballs could
not see
what your mouth
has not uttered.
compassion
you want to be like
a leaf and fall
and be lost on
a rushing river
and just be like
one of them
you betray
your race
your grasshopping
ancestors
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem