Sleeping in trends of fantastic dreams, touching my
sleepy mind, wanting to speak silently through
written words and literature.
Locating words and definitions of unsolicited meanings, traipsing through valleys of undisclosed death, never
in a hurry to get through them, wanting to see
everything displayed in a memory of sense and beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
memory of sense and beauty. good one.