Detached observers,
and features withdrawn
by fates hand,
that scours obscurity.
And around the fountain sits,
those like yonder,
loud rush's blood too whispers,
close and vain apart.
Alone amongst so many
and the moss hangs deep,
aglow the fireflies light,
grey sleep masks intention.
A sheer delight to read, and yes IT IS great poetry. Smiling at you Tai
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful poetry abounding in powerful, vivid imagery!