Calm Leisure claim the instincts,
on the day fueled quite lower with spills,
that do not grant guts to lights,
and so opens the white container of shame,
but closin the black attitude that ties the same,
it is that which make the power, powerless!
that indeed declares the known nameless,
disbands a native leadership of its own kingdom,
distills in line with poor thoughts out of blossom,
calm leisure predominates emotions,
that separate temptations to its notions,
gazed at its ugly beauty with confidence,
but looking at the pre-future without desence,
yes! filled with longcoming regrets,
and ponding poor mixed rejects,
in time he loose and again because of pity rain,
that allows and grants laziness too much sane,
gentle about the conceptual circumstances,
congested of too many un-identical thoughts of reluctances,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
brilliant ideas, and expression!