Father that sundial, is it death
is it Father - the hand of death?
Is it the sword that cuts short a bird's flight?
‘Child, we're all adjacent, the window of life.'
‘It's a window of infinite-endless light.'
O' Father is it a guillotine
do it covert our breath.
O' Father how much time,
time-does-we have left?
‘Child, we're all adjacent, the window of life
until the bird in your soul takes flight.'
‘Child, a question …answer your father this.
Did it prevent your sun-kissed dreams? Last night.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem