Pebbles in hand, nudge
to start talking about the life that
was going to throw the moon.
The oleander wears
the roses without thorns. But you
cannot keep the facts without blood.
Would you tell the truth?
What I think gets printed on your
face. The beginning resembles the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very thought-provoking poem, but loveliest worded. I have enjoyed enormously