Whatever we do, whether we light 
strangers’ cigarettes—it may turn out 
to be a detective wanting to know who is free 
with a light on a lonely street nights— 
or whether we turn away and get a knife 
planted between our shoulders for our discourtesy; 
whatever we do—whether we marry for love 
and wake up to find love is a task, 
or whether for convenience to find love 
must be won over, or we are desperate— 
whatever we do; save by dying, 
and there too we are caught, 
by being planted too close to our parents.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
who is free? ! Nice work.