Where is tomorrow?
A sense of aloofness that never reached,
It' ll be true as ancient logic,
Furtive imagination.
How it'll work?
A word has been decorated on the desk of sentences,
Never ever destroyed by someone,
Will be published as a golden book.
Can this be true?
Yes, wrong's feet dangling in the paper of water,
Not disdaining for appearance
Of anyone,
Anyone, anyone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Can this be true? Yes, wrong's feet dangling in the paper of water, Not disdaining for appearance Of anyone, Anyone, anyone. a sense of the poem and the world of poetry. well done my dear poet. than kyou tony