Can you see why the mirror deletes your image?
Can you say when the muddle of the valley runs deep?
Dense clouds participate in the whole arena of life
That has plants and animals in the making of settlements.
To draw lines between stars makes a letter for viewing,
And pleasure donates itself a gift.
You find stars immeasurable, you find a really fine art,
Of looking and pondering, seizing sadly and saying sizeably,
Fitting donations on the sacred sky that defines science.
Can you see I did it? Donating my soul and souls to the wild
Amounts to be really in happiness.
The sentences of the harder world are upon you,
Light comes one day to upset the horizon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem