This world is a madhouse,
and I am in a straitjacket.
Of course it loosens up
when there is an uniform to wear,
when there is work.
Still sometimes,
when a sad sweet like syrup
goes down my throat and lungs...
and I lean back for support.
lean back for support.
When hope and despair, fighting
a lone fight, both end up
at the same side of the court...
Then suddenly, Ah!
a bone aches, a joint pains,
so that you don't have to painfully
look for pain.
And I jolt back steady in me,
without the pain and
find a relief.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem