What will fall apart, too..
Your promise weanling on deception!
I am a woman weanling
on losses and myths..
I am her permanent guest, unless how
Am I going to live the surprise..
After all the disappointment? !
...
What will fall apart too?
There is no glory to tell the stranger about,
No fish in my sea, nor oysters
No lighthouse in my forehead..
Guide the sea and the sailor.
I am not but a hand,
Squeezed from fruits of sorrow,
And drank in glasses of tales..
Women tears plantings in scare.
....
What will fall apart but my name
Which rested too long before your masculine
O you who swelled so much,
From absorption my femininity.
What will fall apart,
But a woman in her femininity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem