the land is deserted
the Earth slips from my fingers
where has my sunshine gone
my eyes thirst for a paradise,
what I need
is a compass to lead me there
where should I start
am I steps ahead
the trees eye me in disgust
the oceans mislead me
what happened to the place
we used to draw with our fingers?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem