life looms the original abstract questions into our existence,
then paints absurd drunken canvases on demand-
so that the subject of the experiment imagines
that the film is devoid of symbolic passions.
soon a vividly surreal miasma breaks imagination's dream,
in which the drug of beauty
becomes only the silhouette of joy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem