I open my eyes to the other side,
Lowering the jaws, guilty of crime;
Offerings are made regularly,
Forcing the life into a stupor.
Loathing must be looking,
Meaningful rhythms are produced.
Little thoughts are many men,
Losing the points of knowledge.
Open this door or entrance,
The stance you take is a hand
And an arm, with one eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem