hysterics over fancy-labelled fruit extracts
comfortably seated on jade couches,
surrounded by familiar names and faces
yet mind adrift towards a memory
farther than the seas and lands
that resist these trying spirits
fear and loss occupy every attempt
but worries soon vanish into thin air
as a comforting voice whispers in my ear
gentle whimpers, yet reassuring sighs;
all will be well, all will be well
soon will always be earlier than reality,
as long as these hands, remain intact
no matter what, we won’t stop running
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem