something that i cannot understand
her own emptiness
she felt it when the old house burns itself
for no cause at all
at the other side of the road
i can't help but hum a song
whistle within
for i own nothing
and then i dance my way back home
along the paths of sharp stones
this is my poverty here
that no one shares
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem