Incendiary crunch,
waiting to bloom. The self- flagellation
meets half-way the virtuous love.
Standing at an edge, was
it impressive? The classroom has dispersed.
We are left to find the truth.
The gamble starts, not
to cringe, placing the hand over the candle
flame to find the factuals.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The mystery surrounding the poem awaken some paradoxical feelings in my heart, from the incendiary crunch to the self flagellation, to the candle. At the end, I was left with a tiny hope that all worked out amazingly well