Childhood visions are present in these streets.
They're filled with a profound, yet playful light;
That will never die. My senses run wild;
When I revisit this place of lost youth.
The houses and gardens are like things from dreams.
There's a blurring of illusion and truth.
It is a bright world which is frozen in time:
My secret world of fables, symbols and signs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem