Flesh is like
a candle and its flame
burning hot
burning until
it can no longer burn
melting like
a snowfall
disappearing like
the footsteps
of a shadow
fading
like light from the sky
when sunset comes
weak like water
poured into a glass
strong like whisky
when it taste
the tip of your tongue
vanishes just
like a breeze
in the trees
as it goes
passing by
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When flesh is like whiskey it makes the most sense.