A scared man released me
When he became yellowish,
An ornate jewel beamed on
With light so noxious and bustling.
A battered man met him just now,
Ancient in age so great and small.
Wet fingers touched and the water
Was radiant in the walking sense.
My everlasting eyes saw their cotton
And textiles like a rock of stone.
The scared man was a scarred man
So remote and spherical like religion.
His dry eyes swung and rolled
To see more blind action too slow.
A scared man is a wilder beast
So trained by the blobs of this world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem