As if a newly born angel,
Delivered with great pain.
Fruits of sacrifice
For a precious like no other.
Innocence painted all over-
A tabula rasa.
Yet the heat of truth
Boiling, wanted to outburst.
No guts saved inside
So to speak one’s mind.
But once one starts to talk
As if a speech to carve.
Drinking the juice of youth
Eating the bread of formation.
Yet yesterday is still today
Act as if time did not change.
Smile for a guardian angel
Who tickles one’s mind’s side.
Already at the seed of maturity
And mixed with water of purity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem