Not a winner, not a loser

Standing on the top of the hill,

it seemed as if
I had put this world under my feet.

Thrilled the solitude of the book tantana there is a
light cloud penumbra is a pale day
sabujake gray calls.

A-horizon edge and the pieces scattered on hills and
were washed fabulous breeze
forests do not believe any of the musk scent
down some running her pink handkerchief fly falls into
phanamanasara bush
muted legs The rabbit and the sun go away.

This moment, this means that there is no stand-

spring water washed away the emperor's helmet
orange seeds fall into the abyss from the womb of KwaZulu
polka butterfly dat two of them go to their
acacia trees, roses sukno claims to represent nature.

All the scenes are so neutral
I am not victorious, I am not defeated, I am such a man with
the earth at the top of the hill, the
sad, tired sigh rising from my navel, this loneliness is the
moment of my apologetic tears.