Once the beds rolled and righteously sang
Their tunes for the fifth time,
And then the sailors came by to investigate,
Feeding a moment or one,
Feeling a defence from the heart.
I see a chart of the careers and they shine
From the darts that spread and fearfully tread.
Under the tree of innocence is a flower
Grown by the winds of chance.
Inside the delivery of seconds
Is a glare of the white spots
Finding us further than we have imagined.
Assortments arise and are aborted,
The airport is astute now that flight has
Been called and finished.
A consort feels for you, your spouse
Is a conveyance, a matter of motion
To be touched by the splendours.
Once the beds rolled they rose,
Combining a better letter and
So forming words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem