The photo opens my memory
of the freedom of the beach
space where everything is possible
where I chased my fantasies
until I flew away with them
into the sky
but there was always a noose
around my ankle, with a rope
that pulled me down again
and when I took a run
and jumped into the sea, I just
washed ashore after a while
to the family at the tables
under a roof of imitation straw
with the bride in the middle
who used to crouch here and then
looked back and winked at me
while she peed in the sand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem