I am home again
Thinking that the vacuum of
Nostalgia will be filled
But home is dry and
I am wilting like a vegetable
Treated by the hotness of a geyser
The trees and the mountains
Are almost gone and my kinsmen
Drown in the current of the streams
Think that it is well
It is hot and the rivers
Will be hurt one day
When the earth will melt
In our own hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem