When life becomes
a rubble of stones
every stone of hope
is turned upside down
there is no dampness
to wet the imagination
to cool dry faith
to scurry a dream
everything is scalded
by caustic seawater
among the dead
I look for teardrops
and a moving hand
just one icon
to ease the pain
that is stifling
this hurt inside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem