for whom it is not dedicated
there is this laughter that belittles
the poem
as a treasure
and for one who cannot relate
for lack of sensitivity
or imagination
the poem is nothing but a rock
along his path
a pest in his garden
a wilted leaf
another part of his garbage
a burden on his back
a howling sound
in his stomach
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem