the eye for beauty
has malfunctioned
what used to be a sharp
color has become a blunted
dullness
there were no blinks
the stares are stabbing right into the
heart of the matter
what is happening to you?
why did you succumb to such a stillness?
idol of the sculptress
the new prince of the trees?
we move on, we have to,
if we do not, what are we?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem