Sunday, May 18, 2014


I tore up my sorrow
I removed my sorrow
Let it going up mountains
Let it a slippery slope and died
To be as a gliding tone then stopped
To be smoothed in the sun
To never has been aches
To never its worms pinches
Is sorrow touchable?
Indeed, there is sorrow
Everywhere there is abuse
Everywhere there is death
Everywhere there is birth
But there is no freedom
Even if the slavery has been dated up,
Yet it comes as a new fashionable red light
Somewhere its gaps drafted and marched
In the marshes it was immersed
With our water it was immersed
Can't it be drinkable?
I know that something is wrong
Perhaps something in this life is wrong
 Yet there is a swan song
Yet there is friendship and song
Yet neighbours to neighbours long
Let them burned the sun
But not to burn up our fashionable moon