The water in the pool is my tears
let’s swim, come on winds.
The wild and pitiless shamans,
Robbed my joys in the darkness.
Drop your leaves, pine tree,
Making a boat I’d be off to swim.
Bathing in the tears tired I am
To live in tears is to suffer.
The nights tear off their hairs
To Fail the little heart should not.
To worship the land
I must reach that coast,
To reach the coast I must.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem