You want me to like the
silver stairs. To climb down in a deep
well to disperse the ashes of poems.
Far away loud voices
are giving me a call. Time was
very cruel. Will not stop the sun.
The wholeness is broken.
I collect the shards. Watch your
steps. Not barefoot I will bleed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem