The world is endlessly talking on the mobile phone,
They walk in front of traffic, chatting far from home.
They ride a bike with phone held in one hand,
Coffee cup in the other, then do a headstand.
They are all talking hectically, gesticulating on the bus,
But not to their seat neighbor, rather making distant fuss.
I would rather have the silence of people messaging with their thumbs,
There is nothing worse than the verbal banal tales shouted louder than drums.
The tram is no longer a place for meditation, thought and peace,
Even empty church buildings are being set up with a calling lease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem