Going through life, wanting to start a fire, but having
no matches, walking alone, traveling paths overgrown
with the desertion of our youth.
Wanting to recapture those good old days, yet knowing
there's no way to do so, because yesterday has already
gone past.
Leaving us in ghost towns filled with shadows that dance
in the darkness, not allowing any of us to come to terms
with the passing measures of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem