I feel the deja vu.
The mysterious cascades
give the amnesty to thorns
Were you ready to ambush the
bete-noire? We don't know how to
celebrate the colossus Himalaya.
The god doesn't want
to inhale the ether and kill the
bushmaster. Venom turns milk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem