I breathed enough to learn the trick,
And now, removed from air,
I simulate the breath so well,
That one, to be quite sure
The lungs are stirless, must descend
Among the cunning cells,
And touch the pantomime himself.
How cool the bellows feels!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
My breathing soul un-rested, never learning how. And when I try to test it, it never works now. Whenever i'm around him, I can't speak a word. For when I am around him, my breath stalls in my world.