i hear the sound of the big waves
arriving on the shores of Katinka.
the people are not afraid.
the dogs are asleep.
dreams continue growing in the
fields of sleep.
flowers of hope are spreading
on the bed sheets of forgiving.
this is a mountain. and the very reason
why we think we should climb it someday
is that it is still there.
this is a beetle. And i am a nut.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem