just like anything that you did in the past
you started like
a
gasoline spilled
on the cemented road
and a matchstick lighted
it and the fire ran
like a will o'wisp
but as usual it was
just a very short
procedure
of a flame
that once lighted
your
paths of pain
your wish for relief
and then everything
simply turned off automatically
and you
began to do something
new & strange
that which shall not cease
your way of
breathing life to another life......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem