Flowering into my mind are gentle blossoms of
scenery and tender buds of beginnings.
Nothing is lost when stored within subconscious
imagination on foreign shores of habitation.
Swirling into feathers of peaceful knowledge,
striving for beautiful parts of speech to enter
into docile poems, directly aimed at the heart
and shot with arrows of decision once and for all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem