She moves in dark
alleys of existence.
A lamp in her hand and
light for me.
I like this to to be
a dream but it's not
because after quite
long I touched the real
cord and found my tunes.
She's there with her
enigmatic smile and touch
my words. Well, otherwise
there's always a rear
flower in a bunch of words.
She offers me bouquet.
I fear, how to hold it
carefully and turn them
in words. She's so sure
of me and laughs at my
anxiety and moves
with a lamp in her hand
and light for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I touched the real cord and found my tunes. She's there with her enigmatic smile and touch - - beautiful lines expressing nice thoughts, thanks for sharing