Pieces of thought, flowing through my mind
Like an old clock, that slowly unwinds
From every direction, the flows did come
Past, present and future, I could catch but some.
Keeping myself busy, they stopped for a moment
Later did they come back, without my proper consent
So floating still I am, with nothing solid to bind
On pieces of thought, flowing through my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem