do you expect me to
be happy here? the lake is as old as time
that is true
there is this premise that the old lake
must somehow
refresh me about some past pleasures
that i have forgotten
round one: the sound of the wooden boat
and the sleeping willows are peaceful along the
river edged with boulders of stones
there are stories
those sad ones about lovers who die without
tasting what love could have been
i am swallowed by an ocean of faces
and sadness simply comes again
uninvited.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem