Maybe you'll sink into oblivion,
and a shroud of mist may engulf your isle.
But
who knows about the corals
and their Sabbath?
I remember the cross
on your bare chest.
You made me a promise,
and I believe in time's resurrection.
So, friend,
it's a bare envelope in your name
with mere silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem