Since I was a child I had vision
To gather treasured thoughts, unusual experiences and stay to the places
With an atmosphere that can fill up my emptiness
Waking up once at my lonesome bedroom I felt like a man of curiosity,
A son given permission to chase the wind that carries my dream from a far
Fired with negative humors full of despondencies I heard
Stronger than fear and confusion, they were thinking I was a lost fellow
A crank a dreamer greedy to capture the moon and to pull it down right now
Their thinking were misled by their innocent thoughts
I explore not for childish pleasure but to gather details
And print into pages
Give readers a private place where they can call their own extended home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem