Ten days glided away for nothing,
Where was my father? When did the slight
Sound of my mother be heard today?
This sunshine flew at me like a bird,
Just like a landscape and the eruption
Of a volcano, with surprising light and heat.
There was no opportunity, for the best transport
To see in the sun was your legs that bore your arms.
On this occasion high spirits received me,
Respiring was an art of the present condition.
To disturb me would be tremendous in charm,
To enlighten me was miserable.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem