asked me about a hidden secrets
about poor animals,
about wounded heart,
about boold,
about water we drunk,
about all, which are kills my,
body and memory, ,
iam, whom you looking at, not chaste
i am a extinguished candle, and a damaged book
i`m who talking to you, not chaste
i am an assembled pieces of bones,
and a brain not perfect....
that is mwhom you are look at..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem