Sun Poem by tharindra galahena
Sun
You burn,
Scream,
Bleed
On treetops,
Grass,
Me.
You try to drown yourself in the sea,
Every day,
But,
Sea spits you back in the morning,
Like a piece of spoiled meat.
Even death doesn’t want you.
Us, who praise your light,
Your blood and screams of agony.
“We don’t want your pain to end! ! ! ”
Like a painting, song or a poem,
We just enjoy your pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 11:09:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Like a piece of a spolid meat with the mus eof life. Nice work.