I shan't tell you why, but I feel like
cramming a vast amount of words
in a bowl too tight to hold them
inside, so they definitely will spill
out of it, until I can have no more
I shan't tell you what, but I can
at least put in words, though
currently I do not understand
the depth of my emotions
I actually feel at this moment
I shan't tell you how, but it simply
will happen, as it always did
during word rushes, before long
all of my inspiration will fade away
and the flowing fountain will dry
I shan't tell you when, but I know
that once it will have happened
I can say no more, and the only
thing left will be an acquiescence
to all previous thoughts I thought
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem