Bubbles sliding into view, taking thoughts on an airy journey to another land.
So much bluened beauty, standing on edges of heaven, looking down upon my soul as it writes it's story in many volumes of rhythm.
Never leaving any pages empty, all is perfect in exercises of writing.
There is nothing more to see as the bubbles slide into another universe to be expressed in someone else's words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem