I keep my eyes upright and close,
My hands far away,
My breath in a circle,
My words are gifted roses
From heart to heart,
Nose to nose, until they reach the soul
like a whisper that
Unfolds, melts and closes.
My words grow in a moment's season,
Under the light of the tenderness and the
Breeze of the beauty and the reason,
Then, their seeds echo away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem