Letter from prison
My dear friend!
This letter for you
I've written down
here in this green jail
where my word smells like grass,
and my dreams are getting wet in the rain.
Here, where the life and death
have no demarcation line.
Here, where the grass, the rain and flowers
are giving up the ghost
and being born again into a day
as if by magic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem