Rippled water touching my imagination with proliferation,
subconsciously entertaining self within abysses waiting to
be filled.
Silence beckons thoughtful stances, becoming major works
of art through literature.
Watching reflections wave back and forth in rhythm, with
wind blowing across faces of this earth.
Wordlessly carrying breaths of fresh air wherever it goes,
freedom of being is it's fare in life.
Wandering rhythmically with sounds, foreign and domestic,
drawing in a universe and space of people.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem