i was once bound to the insecurities of my world,
and words are frightened to come out from my mouth
the fetters of thoughts that ask whom shall they be pleasing
too unhappy i rise from the rocks and split myself from its cracks
untrustworthy
the words are too enslaving and one by one their syllables
fall like nails from the pillars
words are not for building stars,
for when they look up the skies, they shall never find us
we are grasses spread on earth as floors of the gods
and we always creep
this is the greatness of us, cool and spreading
and free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem