My taste of laugh ended to the nearest
Available turns of rivers of myths
Tearing apart the blanket of mist
Of the jealous woods.
...
I've tuned time to the wind,
In every season, famine's shadow.
With the changes in rules and regulations
The robin can't unfold its delicate wings.
...
I wasn’t born without complaints.
I announced with piercing shrieks
the first fault of this earth’s seasonal wheel.
I’ve displayed on my skin
...