Walking up mountains in my mind, wishing I could still climb
on my own, like I used to.
Scaling mountainsides, writing poetry everywhere I looked,
seeing the beauty of nature.
Immersed deeply in music of Bocelli singing Italianly, his
operatic voice reciting poetry in my mind.
Gathering poetical expressions, placing them in formulas,
exercising rhythm with every word and tempo.
Everlasting memories, holding images forever here on earth,
as anyone who opens and reads a book of poems I wrote.
While I watch from heavens above, knowing God's gifts have
helped people on earth understand life a little better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem