Among the wagons
I found the affection
which one day made me cry.
And maybe that has never been
If I were a foreigner,
I could steal your kindness.
But I know you so well
that I hesitate to behave like this.
When the days darken,
not up to eyes one solution.
However, for them,
we should be dancing
without fear of falling asleep
in a brave world
which doesn't stop spinning.
I saw my friends
carrying on their faces
the picture of deception.
I felt safe for not having surrendered
as well as I felt sad for them,
because they had a hole in their breasts
so much that they risked their hearts.
The despair took over of my hands,
and even with homesick,
I wished an escape abroad again,
because here sorrow was done.
I never imagined
my memories returning;
they're so fragile which prevent us
to live peacefully.
Hiding from the storm
is just another form of melancholy
which our parents avoid having.
Fleeing this suffocation,
they still blame us
by all this city's fears.
So, on behalf of my friends,
I ask you to there are no regrets
and I ask you to give support to their bodies.
Your supplications were believable.
Now, they're just ambitions.
I don't know if I should worry,
but, while they don't hurt
our wrists like punishment,
I will feel safe near you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
....the poem feels great affections. Nicely done