Echoing—these are my brother souls in
A kindergarten park: this is just what we do to
Stay alive
When the day gets along into dark—
The night birds sing—the jasmine perfumes,
But our parents are gone—
It isn't alright to feel alive,
But I am here—
I want to cry into your armpits—
As the melons grow—
And the angels pretend to sing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem