Sentimental views of life guide us down narrow paths of
righteous piety, taking care to unfold and become a part
of life we can be accustomed to.
Silent aspirations fall quietly into mind, tip toeing
around in it so as not to disturb any others that may be
cogitating there in their own spaces.
Not wanting to interrupt any of their voices, just
listening, keeping up with times through many rhythms and
tempos.
Stepping into the periods and episodes of any time that's
wanted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem