The poems pretend
And fake the pain
Time comes like a bird
And my mind like a gun
Sets the perfect timing for the trigger
This big bang!
The sad soil demands a flow
Of blood
A watering of misfortunes
Havoc
So the flowers of progress
May bloom
Anew the scent of sense
The petals of pulchritude
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem