Mirrors shining reflections of what I'm thinking of,
showing expectations of tomorrow's common aspects.
Forgiving the impressions that appear in sequences,
following unpredictable patterns.
Slowly penetrating an interior solace as it focuses
on untoward effects of an exterior landscape.
Betraying the ideals of hidden secrets being kept
down beneath the coverlets of suicide.
Taking only the beautiful facets of yesterday's
tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem