For me the future will
not come. After the assassination no
pain was left. Blood had many debts to pay.
Not day all night, I was
knitting a sweater for the moon, who
had been singing for me.
Flowering of the pangs explodes.
Creation of a new epic begins. After
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I was knitting a sweater for the moon, who had been singing for me....beautiful