Dry fish is there,
But I am not in sleep.
I realized the falsehood
Is the other way of truth.
Every dream has its reality,
So also every death has its life.
Still impatience is there
On the floor of the moon.
Dry fish is there
And the smiling of the moon
Is as clear as the Taj.
No one knows where my sleep is
And yet I said I am sleeping in awake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem