Take the pen in your hand
Let it flow across the page
We will create the finest words
Known to this age
Give me the images of your soul
I will put them to words
Bleed the ink across the paper
All the way from your own world
Create beauty from this pencil
Sit at your desk and write
Tomorrow it may be nothing
But it is poetry tonight
(part seven of the Angel series)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is somehow revealing in how, at the end of the Angel series up to part seven so far, the last few lines repeat a theme that tonight things will be heavenly but tomorrow they will return to the ordinary, I noticed this poetic effect you have used very gracefully in many of your poems, that the moment is now so be immersed in it, fore tomorrow we will forget the magic - very mysterious and haunting, and I have to say, sad in a way, for me at least - these are powerful poems