perhaps in another time our story would be different there would be no leaving and thus no returning you would be the teacher in a northern village and i the fisherman we would live quietly to the background singing of cicadas the whispering of the ocean's breath and poems like weeds would go from the cracks of our lives perhaps in that life the frog and the scorpion are better off as lovers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem