My street takes me to the center of town,
And many have come up and down.
The ghosts I see in the distance recall
Perhaps nothing at all.
But all of this— this lingering thought
Whom've come with their wares and not
Has such a peculiar glee,
Where I'll go in town
And who'll come after me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem