she has been living
the sanitary life
fixing things and
breaking herself
she knows it is time
time for a repair
but the tools are gone
and he just sighs
like a pair of trousers
out to dry swaying
with the mild mild
wind and says it was
his dream to know and
understand the world
while she has been
trying to understand
her own since her
erroneous birth
it is a tremendous
quietude that i feel
now being in between
this bad bad air
scratch pad care
you know it is difficult
this difference
that is also a kind
of indifference
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem