i think of many things when i'm alone beneath the sun.
it's warmth in sinew and in bone,
it's fiery touch upon my flesh,
a ravage on my skin.
i soar, my mind a pair of hawks, their spiral dance entwined;
two pair of wings that share the sky
observing heaven and the earth;
their infinite design.
and when my blythe repast has ended, sudden as begun,
my mind, my heart and thoughts return
infuse my burning soul with bliss,
and freedom of beyond.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This could be written two thousand years ago or today. Either way it's uplifting and colorful.