One day I dreamed,
The fall of the sun,
I tried to catch the light -
That was scattered,
In the palm of my heart,
I stretched my arms,
Around the last escaping light,
I searched for myself -
Sifting through piles of light waves,
I started running back and forth,
I hung around in the old taverns,
Sipping cup after cup,
I met with the friends of light,
Talked to the lovers of music,
Rubbed the shoulders with great mystics,
Sat with ascetics and scholars,
In the solitary corner in my hermitage,
I spent long hours meditating,
reflecting on my light being,
I went up the hills and down the
streets,
To look for a divine master,
Who would tell me the hidden truth,
Good God! I met an old faqër,
On a little island in a wooden hut,
He gave me a magical guitar,
But forbade me to play on it,
I went into my balcony stealthily
Playing at the guitar, listening with heart
The divine tunes, making endless circles around me
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem