Swinging in times of beauty,
not letting go of fruitful endeavors.
Existing in my own world, flying into
the skyway of my heart.
Penetrating the blue yonder with a
variety of thoughts, always plentiful
and growing in gardens sent from eden.
Soaring along edges of tomorrow as I
head home through all the sorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem