From my mind with a fleshly eye, defined the lines I saw,
hidden in means of sublime, neither depth, width,
nor short nor tall.
Not spoken of in mouth of any,
neither an exit or a path, of this space
not a penny cost of it in cash.
No adventure, no of thought, considered big nor little,
is overlooked, seldom sought, just a place to piddle.
Just a nitch, just to stop, take a breath from the race,
just a corner, a small spot, in the shadow of a common place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I feel this has some deep inner meaning which eludes me. But I can still spot the lyrical sense of rhythm and rhyme. It does remind me not a little of Dylan Thomas.