Walking along, mind going crazy as life trails behind, lagging
while thinking of what used to be, but now seems to have dis-
appeared into a mist of haze filled with a magical mysticism.
Hovering over life, not wanting to be separated at all, enjoying
environments through the years, holding on to the times when life
was young and energetic, toying with so many ideas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem