What I remember, the
memories and dreams,
wafting through time visions
of things now unseen. The
stillness of night, the silent
voices of the ghost of what
never was. Careful not to
disturb the mystery of
yesterday, all the while
building things that are
unreal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another good read coming from you, and with a pich or a grain or a cupful of truth in it! Like it a lot! Best, Theo