A line of coast,
beyond our will,
there rises a sun,
a sun of hope,
when rises it seems,
with false regime.
Yet my will,
to behold that sun,
to feel my past,
that comes and last.
Sometimes it plays,
sometimes betrays,
but it's fine,
hurts, yet its mine.
Tonight I fight,
those norms of life,
that burned me turned me
and made me cry.
But I will be there,
to cry to feel,
a line of coast,
beyond my will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem