I’m writing it again
So I can understand,
But I am just a man
On such an empty land.
I’m reading it so slow
So I can understand,
But I don’t even know
The feeling of our sand.
I’m saying it so loud
So I can understand,
But I am so proud
To take it in my hand.
I’m listening to it
So I can understand,
But I don’t think I’m fit
To know something grand.
I may be sad, I may feel fear,
I may think death is drawing near,
Whatever answer gives deduction,
It’s sure as hell my own destruction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem