Flicker of a match,
The scent of sulphur
Filling through our nostrils,
Travelling inside us
To that point
where one by one
we let our guards fall.
Oh, the walls of our sandcastles!
Oh my god!
Just gone with a naughty
Charming wave!
Suicide!
Oh me, oh my! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem