Like the way you walk,
on the sidewalk.
As cats and dogs roll on.
The wolf in the snow,
chasing the girl on the poster...
And the beggars on the street,
bored.
The lamplight slow,
the horns of buses cars slow.
This evening was meant for
insects....
And empty desolate houses..
bricks that protrude out of walls.
The same place we met,
an eternity before.
Oh don't get bored my friend..
don't get bored.
Life will come up with something,
short and dry and sweet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem