your guitar music
far compares to the
sounds of birds tweeting
in my
personal computer
inside this rectangle is
a world i keep to make me
alive
the lives of other people
spread before me
my sorrow lessened, my despair
spread like the light of the
morning sun over the plains
and mountains
trees sing, keep singing
waves keep the chorus of
all monotonous slumber
if only i have four wings
if only i have twenty claws
i want freedom and if i cannot
have it then i must take this war
soft guitar music is slipping
through my bones and the tweet of
virtual birds are keeping me alive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem