I feel within my gender
in a realm of passion
and Russian literature.

A king of dreams and strife
leads me to myself
as our culture dies on the other side.
Who are we to **** our culture?
Or it did perish in Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
Did you know that those atomic bombs were made with love
—or if you will, a broken heart?

Can you imagine—a love destroyed a culture!
Imagine, if my love destroyed our culture?

My language is young and not so wordy.
complex ideas give birth to simple sentences
This style is a pleasure for worldly ears.

Your style is old and dramatic—
who are you to bore an innocent girl
with your dry stories
of bourgeoisie boys and sand people!

My king of dreams and strife
translates poetry into destruction,
while you create sorrow within our dying culture.