It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
I go to meet it at the Edge of the light really a bright imagery.. Enjoyed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem blunders into my presense continually. It so well captures the creative process that is required of the artist to seek out the muse at the edge of light - just there, beyond - in the wake of attention.