I listen to my murmuring soul.
They are poems.
I sit and write it
on the canvas of my soul.
When I fall in deep slumber,
my soul steps in to read it
on its own canvas.
The soul is overjoyed.
My soul is brimming
in happiness now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like the word " murmuring" here, tony. it brings to mind the sound of water, gentle flowing water as in a nearby brook. -glen