Innate talent immediately taking over when having it's
melodies filling my mind with rhythms.
Taking off, soaring into a bluened atmosphere, alone
and joyful, happy to be here.
Casting out lines of intellect, always catching thoughts,
and ideas, developing them instantaneously without delay.
Perfect and in time with measures of rhythm that never
stop, writing all incessantly into poetry, loving the
essence and passion of gifts that I've been given by God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem