I am like a waiting hall
I wait for my love..but
neither this night will come,
neither tomorrow, maybe never
Every time my ideas suddenly stop
i begin to boil.
Like a rustle suppressing a whole forest
Grasping blond hues
similar with lungs raised in the sun beating..
Still love is exhausted everywhere
and i hurt it in my mind,
shaking my thoughts like a cobweb in fire
see..
birds with pips smell
are picking at my heart
..my heart,
in a waiting hall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem