A playground of hierarchies,
where clouds look like friends,
and the sun a great big spit ball,
and you with a straw, .
A spectacle of weirdness and laughter,
and the moon, a colourful weave of
particles that sprout from a echo
of love, and freedoms that make or
break us all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem