Nature swells with pride, filling atmospheres with lively fascination, attributing selectable tones to perfect pitch inside.
Cautioning interior motives, having them secreted in caches of my mind.
Waiting impatiently for a thought to be spread around, fitting it progressively to energy's of impact, surrounding it's detectable melody with aromas of rose gardens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem