Not because of the economy did i fail to notice your flower
or love from hate
because i was neglected in an inhospitable land near an orgy
i held the hand of the spirit in my pink gin
but you are special too
like a bunch of flowers, a bed of flowers
the forest, the snow, the sun
thawing gardens
reveals the heat, that gives energy to my finite state
i was able to force to accept the reality of the thorny path through weeds and rose bushes, and me
diarticulate
articulate
the hope
beeyond the foam
formed from the breeze from your soft kisses
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem