When the seagulls shall
Arrive at the beach
And kiss the shingles
I will wait and watch
Kiss my own tears
And gaze at the air yawning
I shall be glad
To be at this scene for
Those long gone can not be here
And cripples only have wished
To be here
The blind who have gropped here
Can not see what we have seen
It is better to yawn
Weep, and kiss one's tears
Than loom large
Turn the human path
Into the path of a tsunami
Wipe the world
And Live alone, desolate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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