Pillars of rainbows are holding the sky
Strict lines for plants are all over broken
Trees made of pillows grow soft and round
Wind in green light makes lost book pages fly
Words will in this place never be spoken
And glass shortly broken covers the ground
Everything circles this rose from outside
Snow made of shadows falls in a blue lake
It gets absorbed but is not causing waves
While flowers spread in a strange melody
And their shiny red flames keep warm the place
Ruins continue to rebuild themselves
To fall down in waves of their parody
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem