The smell of rice hurts my nostril.
As soon as I get back my conscience,
I notice all the doors closed.
When I dare open them all,
the capitalists frown at me addressing as blind.
...
People call me fugitive my heart aches .
Still I want to be a fierce salmon-trout into the tank of life.
Where will I flee when every night I feel
my beloved wife's breath on my face and eyes?
...
I don't know how I, at this midnight, have become two eyes
having all my existence within me, as if they were a pair of twin bees
sitting abreast on the tepid flesh.
...