You had opened up
with a fragile body and collided with
the moon. Some pieces of light fell down.
Path of shattered glass
appears. Do you bleed without pain? Like
you lose a book in flowing tears?
I am glad death doesn't
come, even after the rain of missiles.
The screams are still coming from the graves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem