Red is deep anger that never comes out
Red is believing, and then having doubt.
Red reeks of revenge, of suffering and hate.
Red is being thirsty and having to wait.
Red, in a painting, makes one hot and confused,
It’s the anger of crying when you feel you’ve been used.
Red is that voice, deep in your head,
It could keep you back, but pushes ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem