dried leaves on my chest rasping
it could be westerly wind blowing
i tried to reach it but disappear
tiny whirlwind on my feet i stare
drawn line a beautiful short curb
fine sand falling to little ridge
ant came out sensing every which way
i wonder what scent she got for today
heading to thick grass never to be seen
nor she remember where, where she came
hmmm...time keep on ticking can't stop
either you have or plainly you don't have
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem