The same substance mutters its healing properties,
The film now forgives you, from the last.
The films are adding to the wrestling few,
This danger defends you with surprise,
How much of the sanity is seen by ill men?
We went out with the sea as it receded,
We cried with chins and tears full of them,
They rented the house of the face,
In this face we smiled and cried and cried!
For daggers are still the winter levers,
Often the resolutions are put.
Then a sameness enters the room full of stench,
The dirt of the corners is healing faster,
Goodness enters once again,
Liking the licking of the food that is dug,
And so the stomach falls downwards.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem