If everyone is with you
And still you're alone
And the wind is unwhsipery
And you can't carry yourself
Then, go alone all the way
Stick to your fingertips
And leave the so called centres
And do away with absurd stains
Accompany the plain you
Be it then the stupid vibe
Or the exciting idiocy
What's real is, after all, you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem