Above the still moon of a mirror
flick the dreams to quieten the fear
The stars of those cold eyes wither
as all hopes begin to shiver and quiver
Eternity may well, be the only surviver
calling all norms into power
That an eclipse of the moon confuses nature
no one can explain beyond this as a teacher
Tastless as it was ever and has been
yet what may compare to this beautiful sin?
Streaked and erased, fate gathered no mass
pouring a lifetime of stories into an hourglass
Nostalgia for the past for its pains
no man can carry it's own remains
Not even your keeper denies your existence
such auras carry no miles no distance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
deep and philosophical it resonates a sad line...rolled in past days are the withered flowers of yesterdays v nice liked