Incessant whispering entering chambers of my mind,
telling me of the many experiences I have yet to
live in life, knowing I will experience everyone
of them in verses of poetry.
Telling the world of the mysteries I locate and
solve, and keeping those I can't to myself for now.
There are so many areas in life that are unexplored
and undiscovered, and I want a chance to be the
first to find them all while I'm alive and still
able to write.
There's no going back now that writing has begun
and I find myself listening to the whispers
intently, every moment I've heard them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem