Unable to talk the tell, i, the whisper is among the trees - Unable to walk the path, where the sun shadows three hundred degrees - Pinpoint the direction, seldom mentioned, why, is that the questioned - Bought by time, the lyric played by age - Thirst before the blow, sand is the seed, not to be sown - The strike, lightning is on her knees, who flowers the bloom to the bees - Crossed by the eyes, only tears never lies - Brought into function, by a heart beat - The deed is the need to feed, then bleed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem