Sometimes, I feel I don't belong
In my own lifetime. Fear is so strong.
Sometimes, I'd like to have a warm
Connection within cold, societal storms.
Sometimes, I feel like a spectre
Surveying the ruins of culture.
Sometimes, I'd like to be reborn,
But not in this worn and weary form.
I have observed crude human kind
For too long. I'd be happy to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem