Waking up on a Sunday morning
Compressed into emptiness
I feel that in the skies
There’s a safe place for me
A departure for another continent!
I say to myself
But then again
Destination is sadness
For the higher I rise
New languages I learn
But in my evening home coming
I meet myself mute and deaf
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem