White candle in the smoke
Flickering faces flick and flash and fade away
Silent smells taste bitter
Blurred figurines blot
A positive rain tries to reign
Negative litter lies on a lunar landscape
Bubbles of rich thought burp from a foaming fissure
Looking for points of view to burst upon
And cover with coloured dyes and lullabies
But hit the ground raising magic and moondust
Longing for a drunken hedgehog bump
Or a sharp-tongued alien with a taste for thoughts
But theres only lemmings and sheep high on nostalgia
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yellow moons and green clovers...magically delicious