Don’t let me go.
over the cork, a bottle
fights for the fluids
to flow out.
No apology to
feel you. There was
no death in the night.
A sun lies down beside me.
The flesh was disappearing.
A blue star alights,
to make a landmark
for the climbers.
No regrets
for the crunch of dry leaves
when you walk on the
grave of the witch doctor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem