Lights are to as shine,
as the fog is to consume.
Air fresh with a vivid taste,
as to withered lips suffer.
On cement broken bones and
eyes red, to reach home tonight.
Don't lay too heavy in your wet bed,
I have not much further.
The turns of shadows are reversed,
not all dreams remain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gosh, this is fraught with unknown meaning, just like real life does not reveal all it's secrets and we are left to consider many things, not knowing which, if any, could be the reality of the thing. Very artfully done.