Again no hastiness,
Just too good to be
A quiet lover,
Just alluring
To be a lovelorn too much
All the day as such,
I'm just like a weaver
Weaving those fresh
Leaves to bestow you
A big poetic page.
Waiting here
Motivelessly to feel
A new essence
That quivers those lines
With rapturous presence
On the day of conscience.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem