Rapidly running into the distance, afraid to stay and face
emotions lying in wait.
Hoping to escape miscarriages of injustice, following the
insistent courses of action that appear in sequences, all
alone in corridors of yesterday.
Tunneling through and finding the essence and passion of
left over periods in latent history.
Wafting aromas of fidelity, coming over the air waves and
settling into backgrounds of many other times.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem