Some are inspired by music,
Bodies bare
Or poetry alike their own
Or not,
But It matters nil,
The point is we do this.
Reminding you or ourselves
of the beauty
That any lonely pair of eyes can see
Expressing thoughts,
Thought of by ourselves,
All art comes from this root of life.
And although we share that same something
We will forever absorb it at different times,
Making it seem different,
Coming in different forms,
Tasting of different tastes,
Smelling of a different flower,
Because like you’re a rose to me,
You’re the death of lily to the one who gave you away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem