Two eyes awake in pain,
Beads of tears dead.
Dreams lie quiet, afraid, still.
Lips twisted in a smile,
Dry flaky lips,
They don't understand,
They can only feel.
A whisper echoes
In deep well of solitude,
Where despair sprouts up,
Roots of hope can never reach.
I pick up my paint-brush,
A crimson dot on blue canvas;
Colors reflect dimly.
Clouds wander, homeless,
They don't rain now,
They just wander.
The load of pain
Seems too heavy.
I burn them to ashes,
And burry in the ground.
I kick the earth,
Wounds open up again.
Ah! The ecstasy of pain,
I bleed, I walk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Take the life and its offers sportively and then there will be no occasion to bleed!