now i learned
what they want me to understand
when i am alone
at least i need someone to talk to
someone who listens
and when i am as silent as cigarette stick
lighted
at least something knows
where the smoke may go
i smoke now
but not because i like it
it is a necessity
the smoke at least talks to me
and the light in the cigarette
gives me the eye of the
cinder
a word of light
a comfort of flame
in the dark
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem