My mouth is pierced by the needle of civilization
Forcing me to endure already more
Than one open wound
Stitched closed by the threads
Of unrelenting cultural mores
That weave the colors of
Shame
And frame the creator
In bias
My spirit is dispersed
Like salt through water
Or blood in milk
Severely contaminating the mind of she
Who knows no longer
The reigns of inspired youth
My body is conditioned
To endure the skyless night
Like a seed without top soil
Awaiting neither fruition
Nor salvation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is powerful. So much of truth, so well expressed. Certainly a memorable one.