Existing on earth, always waiting to re-enter the promised
land.
Landing on desert sands, seeing ghosts of yesterday waving
their images in my sight.
Visions appearing for moments in time, allowing glimpses
of the future every now and then.
Losing all hope, sensing the death of my being on the
horizon, knowing that it won't be long now, just waiting
for the last moment while writing poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem