May harm force an injury,
Let the beginning of time be day.
The day shall end in victory
For those in night, and the night
Shall turn into day again.
This day I force harm on yesterday
As if I smoke the cigars of time
That rely on clocks, and so I waste my time.
This is harm to the body
When supple arms pursue the smoking
In a way we object.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem