Their are waves
of yet
I need to taste
salt if salt
never is it the same
cloudy are some
seas.
Butter does not dripp
from wings
of she
I must need some
ground
to chase her from
in need.
Nibbled am I to a fish
seeking a hook
yet
I am never
caught by she
in care.
Once cast off
I seek
a still cloud to
peek
in a
hurried flow
speeding any where
but here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very courageous demand, but you do not hurry up, my friendly council...10... / Thank you..../ All best, Tsira