O ye
the morning breeze
gather thy sails
and envelope me
none chains
restrict or maneuver thee
enslaved by thy wistful contemptuous nonchalance
I dare thy flights
which surge ahead of semblance
draw barricades
like the moths on the lonely flame
my eyes brim with the angst of being windswept
blink I shall not
cause a moment is a lifetime
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem