When its hour of star; night in dream,
Darkness flies her rainbow colors,
The roofs of the huts gleaming dark
The silence flows like flame of fire.
Dead came with their dead
deities of the land speak with with clumsy voices
still on blindness.
The red-winged and blackbird stand on dry tree
Whisper with terror voices,
Yet still deaf.
People pass passage of pain
Working in a forest of a thousand demons
Breast kills, youth dry young
Just to see the smoke without fire
Ocean without bank
Masquerade were decorated like an Angel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
ocean without bank, I like it, thanks,