The world through brief eyes of awe
At a purposeful place
The seat of self scooting to a head within a great hall at a large table
Past errs on the side of burning
A penchant for present leading past to stasis
We are all welcome in the hall of regret
It is the rare woman who sits at the table of her own grace with confidence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem