it was as if you were standing before a fence
and beyond the curved slats, woven with 
blossoms and leaves, over there, in the orchard, 
a group of children played
barefoot, ragged, grubby
your heart 
shudders, half-wild: those children
racing around, that orchard, longed for
you discover suddenly, within yourself, how badly
you'd play forgetting yourself, neither eating, nor sleeping
you start - someone calls your name 
beckons you—come! You look around—do they really
want me? 
You look around - do they really that wall, sometimes stone, tall, thick 
sometimes transparent, or glass, don't I
build it myself? 
I hear 
clanging coming closer, a drum
and from around the corner a group of well-wishers wind 
their voices growing louder, clearer
my poor 
heart                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    