Rushing quickly, stepping into streets of havoc, believing things will be alright, yet they never are.
Supposing every corner turned would give a new respect towards daily routines.
Changing and connecting every nuance as rhythm's change and rearrange themselves with a style all their own.
Watching deftly, seeing an image shining before me in depths of interior design.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem