My love, memorable oblivion, he's a black spider's web hanging like an old spider's web hanging on the ceiling!
There is a great lack of beauty in them, a little bit of indifference grows...
As it grows, the spider's droppings become the vines of the banyan tree
I remember two of them swinging on a banyan tree once; While eating the swing, he felt like the swing of a breathable clock, the artisan of time
But you can't eat a spider's web
The worn-out image of the stopping time
Suddenly a lizard jumped from the ceiling
Black spider web on his body!
My love is up to that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is thy love In the puzzling jaw of prey.....