A lookalike waits for
me. It is outrageous. Who wants to be
stoned to become immortal.
O demolisher, come
again. You can touch my bones
and gather my skin and write an elegy.
The pain has no company.
The scarred body burns in the hot sun
and wears a black coat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the last line is the best of the poem. I think it does a great deal of poetic expression to the line before it. Not a bad poem from my point of view.