There over the horizons
The falcon rises again to my surprise
With pointed wings made of rough feathers
For a fame unknown,
But sure to be there.
The falcon rises and flies faraway.
Cliché.
The offence goes unnoticed.
Your ruby sky is blooded now
The patches of the dead Sun loft across the sky
The Moon appears to kiss the Earth next
A poet`s mind goes frenzied
Water waves overwhelm me
Down in the river of deep woes
The blue of the kind kills my spirit
My eyes blink and I Cannot see the sky
Any further and any farther
I fail to rejoice with the colds down.
My falcon is still flying
Even as the Moon sinks in the water
Along with me...
The sighs are sweeter than ever...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'There over the horizons The falcon rises again to my surprise' (A falcon is made to fly high until it is shot down one day) 'Down in the river of deep woes The blue of the kind kills my spirit.'................ two contrasting pictures, but both foreboding some kind of doom! The juxtaposition is wonderfully effected! A10