Beat the drum,
Sing the couplet,
Freedom is not because of you,
It is in spite of you,
I need to get a look,
In the heavy haze of whitened smoke,
The rhythmic movements of your body,
You hands in the skies,
I am to myself again,
What illusive self,
To fly to and from self to self,
We though meet or not,
We are one soul.
I stretch from corner to corner,
Dig deep and look up,
This is the street in freak.
Every corner and wall,
is celebrating life and death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem