Misgivings.
The long road is a petrified asphalt river where it dips and falls
into an abyss it's boiling and steam arises, cars fall in
disappear, never to be seen again
I have warned them do not drive when the sun sets,
but headless they drive into their own oblivion.
Ancient sorrow, under the new lane is a roman road
soldiers, who had been promised eternal life, come to life when
the sun drips golden blood;
Heaven help a driver caught up in their rage his many regrets are as
useless as morning dew on wayside weeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem