Everything, I have everything,
And I lack nothing.
I feel fulfilled,
And never empty.
I see my own color
And flavors.
I have my own voice
And my own mother language
And I have my passion
For all.
I have kept my death
In lock and key,
No dislocation and
I am going to the bee.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem