Turning and turning around the same confined place,
Every day a replica of the previous and the next;
Every night growing darker and frightening more,
Puzzles popping up in their perplexing best;
Life unchanging, situations unvarying.
Turning and turning around the marked circle,
Each turn scorched by life's unchanging fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem