some colored balloons in my room
floating towards the ceiling
they are light
wanting to escape
their nature of flight
they can fly away from this roof
and they all gleam on borrowed light of the moon
like some colored lights
fruits, floating fruits dissolving in dark skies
above a midnight candle
they stay for a while and travel a certain distance
in this heat this dark confusion in my mind
each shall burst, i have not heard this sound
cracking in this darkness
floating, i am, it is me, how well do i know?
this burst this natural death
in space
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem