Walking along the tracks as the train races past, not slowing down for speed was the only love he could understand.
Believing in sincere words of a loving heart that suddenly had disappeared in the very jungles of a poetical mind.
Walking forward, never looking back, not wanting to be rescued, living in traces of memories that once kept track of what would happen next.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem