Love submitted a thrill of,
what I cannot be of.
A sea, A water of wishes,
all amenity inside of me.
Gore of wishing poetry, and a rush.
DIE DIE DIE DIE.
DIES, emotions die,
but if they are circled, I
Never, stop,
Holding on, Love submits a thrill, for me, for you
and what we have.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem