yet not life is so apprehensive,
not so clean.........not so with enigma,
not so fancy on which i go naive,
still i view a second life.
a life so bitter like sorrows of bush,
so tasty like poems of mine.
my fellows...my queens
my family....my reals dreams
all meet me every night
under my eyes in my dreams
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem