Dusts I compare to dogs that bite,
You steal massive doors from me.
Its storm is weak, you weep from desire
To break the complete reality I have.
Contend with blindness and deafness,
From you has the mince of dreams been read.
I always gained from your lifting presence,
Like a maiden who wrestled with distress.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem