the fierceness of a a memory is carried by the colored flags of
this island
it should have been a celebration but it is not
the wind is strong in this low season
and the waves are eating too much of the white sands
i can sense your anger, but i am walking away like a man without thoughts
i have accepted all these anger like the way i am walking away from
everything
i sit upon a chair i take a number on that early morning
when chairs are all empty when stores are closed
the money changers have not opened yet
and i wait and i go through these process of surfing without something
definite, there are no questions in my mind
there is only my presence to myself
i am bound, i know, i am helpless
ly still bound to you, and when love comes i close my eyes thinking
about your face and body, and when i burst into a scream
i take the composure of decency by not mentioning even the syllable of your name
it is still respect for love despite its cruelty to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem