Though I wait, and time overpasses by a mile
It still seems as a perfect lie
To me, that; the recent palate is transparent -
You never know it is to die.
I can wait for years to pass,
I can maintain walking till I reach the grass,
I can gain the place I dreamed again,
Yet I can't dream -again, and again- like
A tarn, in its vain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem