Planted seedlings
During the observation grave,
Premonitions of the day
In the field of mind
Planted crops of thought,
Deep into the night
To transcend the hunger aesthetic
Recollected to harvest
In solitude.
In Rhythm they dance
The dates with Arabian wind
To and fro the trunks
Steadfast the pitch
Rise and fall the beat
Consolation to exist
In the journey of the mercury
Temperatures of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem