] When pain oozes, 
from turmoil, 
my desires flames to fire, 
I know it will worsen to agony, 
Present with dormant, and volcanic strains, 
Upturned from ashes, 
scattered beneath, 
my bare feet, 
My sole blistered, 
with spark, 
to know at real, 
that i am still a stranger, 
in your eyes.                
and in the humid day where leaves are not swaying and shrubs don't swing i remember those sands in the footprints of a stranger...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful poem shared about a stranger...........