In my mind i try to hide from another cold winter rainy day.
i wonder where are the trees, the rivers, the hills,
the fields where free man run.
i only see what’s not there,
i only want to be where im not and whith who im not.
i dont think about the truth, i think about riddles.
im a misfit, forever displeased with who i am,
doomed to live inside my dreams,
doomed to be alone and desperate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem