We realize our stubborn roots
Are our weakness,
Evening's minute desert.
We appease our thirst
With the water of reality,
Of the 'possible'.
It's late in our body.
We don't try to escape anymore.
We realize we're condemned for life
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem