In my mind like whirlwind that comes to steal.
First, idea’s light touches my head I feel,
The thought exclusive to perceive with zeal.
The air about me, the thought starts to seal
As clouds of imagination that reel
With splendour to elongate its appeal
To me to engrave words of extreme deal
Of beauty spirited for me to wheel
To my satisfaction dear to serve as meal
For my head to consume feelings that heal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem