With a daze, my stuttering lips
Widen to unleash the naïve content of my heart,
In my eyes, fear so patent like a peal,
On my mind, a lesser valor echoes like a distant call,
Where can I find my feet?
Where do I go to find my first gust?
For I felt my frame in chains,
My head bowed to the slides of my yester-days,
How can I empty this heart, once a solace for the chase?
In your eyes, I could sense the chiming of girlish liveliness,
The race to being a man,
Before my gaze, came falling the relics of a life,
Rarely right
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem