I fell much to hard,
to fast, with no warning.
A gust of wind, sails my
one leaf from the woods.
Over the pebbles, protection
is a place to be looking from.
There are millions of us,
every where, I see the..
Aardvark, the few of us left..
tremble in the quake of her wake..
It is that I am..one of the fortunate.
I cling to a rose..in the breeze..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem