My words float in
air. Your pulse moves very fast like
chirping crickets. We must mate in metaphysics,
Half-truths prevail and rule.
O my god save me. I cannot swim
in the boiling river of melting mount.
How far is the peace?
After the terrible pain of questions
the actual comes and goes in tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem