Hammering, clanging, sounds coming across a welcome mat, expecting
friendly spirits to enter with a fabric of plaids to make a special
place to run to when trouble explodes like a sky full of fireworks.
Deadly, yet so beautiful, holding solutions in check, a perfect
moment in the life of a poet not connected to any particular song
being sung.
Only feelings mushrooming in the darkness, touching shadows flowing
in the surroundings of an excellent advantage where unknown ideas
are being taken in echoes of another universe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem