the way they talk their native tongue
pulls this heart and puts it up to pick it up.
the way they pal up in their colloquial words
calls this heart up to get home off the native land.
maybe it sounds a bullshit crazy
maybe this mind is totally freaked out
but this heart is now locked in wolfing
all the words down that they burst out pretty often.
guess the soul of a tongue lies in the hearts of local homes
and there lies the real warmth what a lover ever looks for...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem