IT ENTERS your body and your tiredness is filled with petals. In you happy animals tremble: music on the edge of the abyss.
It is the throes of death and the serenity. You still feel life like a fragrance.
This pleasure without hope, what finally does it mean in you?
Is the music also about to stop?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem