all my wishes gang up
and they look to run riot
as if all rivers and rivulets
merge into a single community
and then a flood, flood and flood
and a deluge carries me off the island
away from the temple
from the monolithic past
from the pastoral paradise
from the open-armed love
from the meaty poetry lust
to one unknown maybe exotic island
with a plenty of orchards and linnets
an endless pasture and ever lush green love
and a coldly smiling long graveyard
or maybe currents defeat my sinews
in the mid way and I drown to urchin death
and maybe you will yet read my poems
wiping your last-love tears and......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem