I went down a lane shivering,
The lane shivered in the bushes as well,
I went to a bird-like tree, with tottering mammals.
I went to his stomach with glee jerked from time,
My flesh was campaigning to be saved,
But centuries swam to me.
For the flesh of the tree was a flesh of me,
And this fruit I was,
And this drunkard kept fairness.
My words vomited to the further roads,
As words endowed and powers shared,
Movements are failing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem