It’s late to write a poem-
It’s almost time to go-
And yet now as I was about to leave
The spirit of poetry came to me
And I feel in me lines that want to be written-
So as I quietly calmly surely write these lines down now
I know
The world can wait a long time for a real poem-
But when it comes
Oh how the sky opens up and the dreams go on happily on their journey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem