i have my own voice
but i am not a good singer as you
and so i keep this voice
only for myself and i begin to speak
silently
only to myself for i am not pleasing
at all for
the world
it is a sad voice
it is filled with envy and regret
it is a silent voice
and yet so restless as a traffic noise
it is contained and restrained
afraid to displease the whole world
it frees itself from its throat and roams
the confines of the mouth
it speaks silently for itself
on the letters of an ink on the hardness of the teeth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem