I had no way of stopping the invisible wind
So I said to him, "Come, winds! See my cradle."
And the hair that was shaved off at the time of my shaving is kept there in a corner, tied in a betel leaf
Before I could continue my conversation,
A strong gust of wind took away my frightened soul
On my lips,
a faint wave of the last word had just formed
When the despair of salvation
held my burning breasts in its palms,
My dove-like graceful hands of the wind, entangled in some intricate dance!
"Now you will have to cry!"
The wind said to me
And cut off my soft hair
I laughed!
I thought I might escape the fire
But even in it, there was your memory
and my laughter.
In the flames of that fire,
how high did my laughter reach?
I continued to despise myself, captivated by countless and meaningless fantasies
Because I knew that true art is death
Like the virgin aura of love
that is loath to touch even in dreams
It's all madness and darkness, in its very presence is becoming a black hole for me
In this darkness, I want to embrace the disillusionment
I want to become a song
