i was sitting on the bleacher
with chopsticks on my hand
i am feeling like a drummer
...psyche to strike a chord or two
then came i am thinking of you
i started talking with my shadow
how crazy could it be reflection
to an infinite mirror of creation
beyond reach, reach of human eye
but i never ask myself word 'why'
i keep going like singing a lullaby
everything; dream ends with sigh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is an inspiring piece, thank you Dalan