the body is a prisoner
the mouth cannot speak inside those
bars
it is hard to understand
no one wants to speak about this matter
when everyone is maimed and mum
the soul begins to sing
more beautiful than what the lips
utter
more truthful than the body which
is clothed
the songs of the soul are clear
on those nights
in harmony with the coconut leaves
making love with the breeze
what is the face of this soul?
you have not seen it yet.
and that is the excitement
for all your years to come.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem