When I was a king
With the need
Or commitment
Or challenge
With notes and critiques
Of these philosophies
The whole day and night was mine
To dream
To be of ecstasy
To float
And create
These passing images
That proliferate
My whole being
But now
Committed to master
These eccentric
And epoch finders
I am a trembling student
Only anticipating
The first sound of the bell
Cracking, breaking and splitting as a lightening
The pitched dark sky
Short or long.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good poem, thanks. first sound of the bell. I invite you to read my poems and comment.