A lizard loads suffering on the nation of the sea,
It is to perform on the house by its rules, not what we saw;
Its lack of power reduces the weakness in our hearts,
Green and slimy, full of creams and disorders.
Serial killers watch a painful memory of the wall
When mice of men stagger and cry from whispers.
There is inaccuracy, and what lives and sings in teaching
Is like a solution and problem, one to be concerned with.
The lizards of the walls happen to be like colours,
They blink and surround, fully forming like events.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem