On a good-boy Saturday evening
Walking with my father in the Park,
Linking heads and hands like players
In a tournament we have attended, we are sensible
In speech over a confused matter.
On this evening the sun made the day into dusk,
Our names became forgotten, strange as strange,
Offered to only some; the heated debate turned
Into an argument of considerable temperature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem