in paying respect
for this kind of craft
just like embroidery
or carpentry, we do it
then every day.
even at the expense of
quality.
it is like basking under
the sun
or drenching yourself
with the dying rays of the
afternoon sun
it is like enjoying the coldness
of the night
savoring more and more
the salty taste of silence
the bitter after taste of
loneliness....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem