Hidding from bad dreams,
and sleeping
underneeth the sea,
I hide from thee.
Tell me,
do you think I have a chance
to catch a break
if the wrong man wins?
On storm wrecked shore
each,
foamy wave
moves,
sand about my face.
In another
life
one shan't refuse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem