Cracked moons of our longings
In starless nights of ennui.
Do we still dream of
Other worlds beyond the sun?
This ancient, tired earth
Weighs me down. O it is rife
With constant irritations!
It is so polluted.
It's filled with fevered egos,
Alas. That is why
I still dream of other worlds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I appreciate the reason provided at the end.. well penned!