We did not go to the Eiffel Tower anymore
As a rule, we were not allowed to speak.
But a river can't get back to the source,
Now constantly seeking to hide myself,
Reasoning is more than discussion in daily life,
So, I didn't want to look back, those colorful dreams. Which is not to be
If, there are still two colors, white and black
What's the harm in that,
Only dream scars become nightmares, however
But why do I think again and again, if
I thought we would return one day under the Eiffel Tower ground.
Which would be really rich and profound.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem