It is a normal Saturday,
anonymous is sitting on the same seat,
glimpsing the same scene,
feeling the same milieu,
having a routine travel,
departing for home in a bus right now.
See from above,
it is a busy street.
trams pass,
buildings ahead,
crossovers overhead,
roads are in construction,
pedestrians are walking slowly,
automobiles are moving quickly,
a vivid panorama.
The sky seems saturant,
an aeroplane is gliding,
a hawk is flying around,
a finch is flitting from here to there,
a girl is smiling at me,
and the bus stops,
but my inspiration is keep generating.
(7th of August,2004)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem