2 am
pass the pinnacle hour
of the night
we're floating out
of all attribute in life
wearied body now
is a lung
breathing unconciously
beneath
the hotspring resort
from ardent ground
of Mt. Makiling
embracing myriad cells
formulate tender touch
strength renewal
rocking nerves refreshal
resuscitating tensioned brain
cuddling outer skin
like the hot wave
burning
and disappearing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem