flown down the hills, never was then
the wind that blew so high
as the sky can see and take where the clouds
can touch the sunning star like the sun
look up the lips that swing, waiting to
gallop the midst air of sweet thirst
here the peer of savory taste
of moment to surrender
leads me nothing than to stand in the clouds
of doubt of mistake, take over
me to hold you dearly for nothing left
but you to recall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem