Handled by noble hands in masters Doun
Bohemian elixir Kitchen of the timeless
The streets of Krumlov remains immersed and blameless
Inhabited by ambassadors seated at meridian's crown
The first Velke whispered passions and war
in father Tezke's freedom breakfasts and Absinth bazarres
Heavy hearts in distant skies
through dreams carried by sleepers and the winds in the air
They're somewhere- less familiar
Returned into the unknown
The looks in their eyes portray the strength of their souls
served on a dish of unholy thoughts...
and passed memories
These raining thoughts
like conducted lots
are in the eyes of the Lords of Barbakan
The nobles greeted in master's Doun
While dining and seated at meridian's crown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem