There are days my balance ceases
Sanity decreases
Fear releases
Its dark whirlpool
There are days deep hidden urges
Surface and despair emerges
Life's thread verges
On whirlpool's rim
There are days as black as condors
Mind can't ponder
Body wanders
Into a whirlpool
There are days with no forewarning
Noon or morning
Unadorning
Pull me down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Whirlpool's rim', 'There are days as black as condors', Liilia your poetry has me in a whirlpool of admiration and awe, deep, delightful, delicious!