On the edge of the road..;
While he was going on his way,
In a feathered feet..
He became a dust..!
,
Pale I was standing and motionless..,
As a withered tree..
And the wind stings my lips!
,
On the edge of the road
There..
Barefooted i was standing..
Holding my fists on a handful of dust
While the ash leaking from
The hole of my heart..!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
On the edge of the road, good write, I like it, thanks. vote 10 I invite you to read my poems and vote.