on a dry tree hung
does the monastery hang
and a road is curving
like a snake
with its tail up
do you hear that cry
of the rocks
the silence screams
overcome
by all the words
by the roar of crickets
by the blood in the vains
I've never understood nothing
stuck the palms
and three fingers
above the soil
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem