Gravel veins link the quiet arteries of a ghost town,
From my roost, two or three scattered denizens
Wear faces bewildered - if not altogether lost -
Around in circles a young girl promenades;
Perhaps wondering when everyone left,
Where they went, and why they rushed away.
My signals go unnoticed from the belfry,
I claw at the spirits holding me hostage,
Pawing at my soul, I claw the flesh raw, but
Nothing will separate the bottleneck of
Hunger and thirst, longing and ache, burden and chain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem