I was the voice of poems without music
I was the word of music without poetry
Now is
The deaf of the music without poetry
I'm the dumb of the poem left without music.
There is nothing incomprehensible dear
It just takes a moment to stop and think
Oh so
Feeling the result of thought
And I think it is necessary to think about that feeling.
- - -
Oh just to roll like this
Become a giant snow ball in the desert!
And of course
To be full without taking a bite in your mouth
To be ash without ever touching the fire!
A rain drip from the ground to the sky
Maybe I was a land flowing from heaven to the ground
Who knows
Maybe a sun that freezes the pole
I was a pole that melted the sun!
- - -
I was a painting but in sight
A scratch-free painting in all colors
Maybe i don't know
I was a paper, I am a painting
Tables drawn on paper.
Sometimes I fished in the sea
Sometimes the sea in the fish
Sometimes
A small world within the universe
I had a great evolution in the world!
- - -
As time passes so fast, darling
I could not know what I am and what I am not.
I see it, I see that I don't forget you, my flower
I am the past you will not come, the past you will not come!
So
A future that cannot come
I have a past that cannot pass
Same time
The past of the future
I am the future of the past.
The slushy snow falls, the air is cold
I'm like fire between water and snow
So that
Whatever I am in the world
The place where I will fall is soil again!
- - -
Now put all this aside
I have a gift for you, a purple flower
Put it in the ocean in your mind
So that it does not fade and dry.
Her name is forget-me-not flower
Take it, always stay with you
I will never forget you, too.
Keep your mind always on me.
Maybe then
Can find what I really am
And I can come as your loved one
After all, they say the way of mind is one.
Note: The name of the flower in the picture is "Forget-me-not". I wanted this poem to be an interesting poem like the name of the flower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem