Eggs of the bird named desire
are my life's possession,
some hatch and sing over my existence.
Halo of my father lured me to run on his track.
I preferred muddy garden path,
but smooth asphalt road was allotted by life.
In youth, I danced as a psychedelic light,
with change of air, the rhythms changed
the desire played a role to hatch an egg.
Now obligations are my fisherman's net
I long to have a white castle, green forefront and gentle breeze.
I feed the bird and keep a watch, an egg will hatch some day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem