I opened the creaky door and little windows.
Let wind comes to sooth me.
Nobody wants to stay for a while
And my burning altar cries.
I am scared to remain that opened.
The culprits may invade as saints in the middle of the night.
But in this empty house what they have to take away?
I have pawned everything that would never redeem.
The boisterous waves rolled up to the shore
And I slipped.
The string was broken and the kite flew towards the heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent imagery.The metaphor of the kite with broken strings is especially effective. Very poignant. Wishing you a better tomorrow. Warm regards, Sandra