Some of our dreams spoke the language
Of emptiness, like a love,
we exhaust extreme energies,
then the despair.
We saw the beauty
(an East of hearts, executing letters)
but cannot find an answer to the evil
beating us
and what remained
in our eyes,
with the wind,
climbed the light.
Translated by Amanda Horn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem