In the continuance of presence
exists the love for living
between the moulds of essence
there's the passion of perceiving.
In the flow of ink
that dances through rhythms of pleasure
to reach the length of brink
and go beyond meaningful measures.
What comes through real
goes to the core of heart
is not simply surreal
and encourages life to start!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem