When you write a great poem
Or sleep with a wonderful woman
Or kill your mean enemy...
You can drink rivers of wine
and smoke the trees as cigarettes,
Kick the earth until it spins in the direction you want,
Confess to your parents that you are not their son,
Dig up a dead body from the grave
And dance with her until the morning,
You can scream at the face of the sky: I am The Land Master!
Then,
You can die as befits a man to die;
Laughing at the face of death
Spitting at the face of life...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. A powerful poetic start. Thanks