Hiding behind curtains of life, watching everything happening and
not being a part of it today, hoping to stay invisible in order
to write poetry.
Alone and treasuring time in solitary moments, preferring to live
life in this way, at certain times in life, finding self being
caught up in the turmoil of humanity.
With no where to go, except with the flow, being carried away just
by the energy of what needs to be done at the time, picturesque,
divine, silent, bringing out creative attitudes and moods born with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem