Some of us never stop dreaming,
Some of us never stop breathing,
But where are the men of goals and children?
Baking the apples, shall we sleep with wanted kisses,
Or live with disappearances, forgotten marriages?
But what shall we be fondling, entertaining, stealing?
How is the kitten lying near the sofa?
We purge the families, we're aching to lengthen the rod,
The rod of metallic attack, the staff of distinguished manners;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem