I HAD SO MANY OTHER POEMS TO WRITE
I had so many other poems to write
So dark and deep in me
But suddenly
A small ailment came
And I could no longer be.
The world goes on
There are other poems
As good or better than mine
There are trillions and trillions of other things
The world won't vanish without mine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem