Tomorrow, we shall die-
Like poetry which
by mistake is spoken
by teachers-
The narrow mind
Kills the field of pics.
And a different meaning
Always we shall find.
Alas, my fair idea
I want you to keep
Not get what others
Have to say-
But lo, fair image!
They send you to sleep-
The teachers never accept
all, but do not send ya away
Far from your sweet soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem