The smell of wheat is mine, everything I have is yours, an
inch of soil is mine, everything I plant is yours, I am from the
plague, this tribe of the East,
you are this glass traveler of the city of Farang,
my skin is made of your pseudo-skin, I
poured out of red velvet, from the blister of your tunic, from the skin of a leopard,
the smell of wheat is mine, everything I have is yours,
an inch of soil is mine, everything I plant is yours
, repentance, the thought of the iron forest and my skyscraper
. The thought of a room the size of your body for sleeping
, my body is my soil, the stalk of wheat in
our body is the thirst of the thirst of a drop of water, the
smell of wheat is mine, everything I have is yours, everything I
plant is yours, everything I plant is yours,
in the city of Farang, its people are cashmere,
my city, my city of prayer, all its dome, its
body is gold, your body is like an axe, my body is like an axe,
its hard root, its beating is a picture of a heart, but on the tree
, the smell of wheat is mine. Everything I have, its yours, its a piece of soil, everything I plant is yours, I
shouldnt be an elegy for the soil of my body,
youre a traveler, the blood of the veins here, Im too,
my body doesnt want to be injured by your hand,
now with whoever it is, whoever it is, whoever isnt, I shout the
smell of wheat, everything I have, everything I have is mine, an
inch of soil is mine, everything I plant is mine.
