Lips, lisping thoughts
forward against the wind
looking out over the empty street
with a desire for altruism
In circles
of habit
no one has
time for each other
Fast life
there is almost
no time for progress
where selfishness rules
Loneliness shouts
in a conversation
with a deeply hidden emergency
for a moment of attention
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem