I often wonder.
In awe and bewilderment.
Like a child with eyes wide.
What is the method of madness?
The soul is it my mask?
Because it reeks of your perfumed bust.
How do I peel it off me?
How can I rip it off?
And turn into an ordinary toad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the reverse nature of this poem. With the sense to return to simplicity an interesting concept. Well done.