Sometimes you want to write a line
but the line turns into a snake
that bites you on the hand
and you wonder is that poison
but you carry on and the line turns into a bat
which flies away into the night taking all your thoughts with it
and all you have is a line and a brick wall
and its all read in one breath but you died anyway.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem