Slitting the chest of darkness a swarm of spiders
Was seeking the surface of the earth on creeping
The rocks of hard layer are like the container of dreams…
It was calling those again and again in eyes of mirage.
There was neap tide in the quicksand…
Alas! They were swimming to keep unfulfilled dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem