Memories of decadent times fill piles of dirt
with their earthen thoughts as life escapes,
becoming happier on lines of ecstasy.
Beaming rays of sunlight illuminate webs of
spiders hiding in corners of mind's attics,
on rainy days of reclusiveness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i enjoyed reading this masterpiece.you wrote in a uneque fashion.well done.