I awake
Feeling my skin breaking with cold
(My mother loves the trees
more than me)
My feet meet the earth,
Loving and hating the
Bondage of gravity
I sometimes dream of death
As a lovely little girl, so
Beautiful
And others, rush through
The fields that exchange secrets inside my ears
And love life
But I am still alone
(My father loves himself
more than me)
I have slept, for years on end,
Dreaming about living and
Living about dreaming-
And then woken up again, only knowing
That
(You love life
more than me)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem