When a man stepped, I ate.
When a pig gasped, I drank.
I hated sand, when it hurt my friend,
And bubbled on the shale, my friend.
Besides memory, that's what I live for:
A voyage not complete.
When the dewdrop fell,
I knew the world could see in light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem