there is a stampede in the gap,
between the pillars and the top,
the voice of these feathered souls,
heard through day and still night,
The fatty fascicles always on alert,
learning is not the process, but the nature,
what is our contribution to infantile adventure,
when the grape eyes capture every detail,
Have you painted the sky with orange cue,
to cry for the leftovers that is not due,
Have you dyed the sky in light blue,
then why do you long and weep as a babe?
Voice of feathered souls is very wisely expressive between pillars and top. Interesting sharing done definitely.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
stampede in the gap already catches attention