O we are still waiting for miracles.
Yet the stars are seemingly not aligned.
These communications are so piecemeal;
As they only impact on the surface.
O they control the distance between us.
Our wounds do not show up in cyberspace.
We're in exile from the centre of things.
A solitary light glows in our eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem