I wonder how far I would float on this coming breeze?
These limbs have been so light as of late,
This hair is falling off in droves.
I dreamed, when young, of being heavy in the
Consumption of my wishes,
But others can starve you and make you cry
Your blood and fervor out into the oceans,
Never to return but more salty and less colorful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem