the limits are found within the boundaries of the
four-sided picture
beyond that no more, your conscience says
Foul!
there are edges of our tolerance
the threshold, the hope and beyond hope
is what?
you always end up something with a sigh and a saying
that there will be no regrets
you go back to daily living
another poem, another day, another sunset
then what? you ask yourself,
there is only this compliance of being here
there is nothing to conclude that everything else had been exemplary
this gate and then another.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem