and you have become happier
writing for that which pleases you most
forgetting finally that we were supposed
to be born and now here
to please all of them.
forget the rhyme of the air and the
trees
the symphony of the clouds and the sea
now you are here
making a life, living it the way you
like it
though, still in a nook, where you tiptoe
afraid to wake them all who
are still asleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem