Pillow billows set deceptive scene,
surface calm masks sadness few ignore,
one-sided sleep has hibernation been,
dreams teem with team but rhyme with rime in store.
Lonely, at dawn, one wanders from the room.
Experience seeds prudence. What before
may lie that may belie deception's gloom,
or answers find that confidence restore?
Day's page is turned, one mask asks of fate's doom,
festina lente? carpe diem's roar?
which way will stitch win, loss, uncertain loom,
responses rich? or hung, drawn, lovelorn core?
Door closed, one wanders on and wonders much
hope's tightrope comes at price too few dare touch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem