Mind has many doors
At times it's an unknown peninsula
A labyrinth at closer look
Move scum slovenly
Or else you'll lose yourself.
Dreams, swarming feelings
Make a slough of despond
A slog of sorrow
Marshy land
Squrim through closed doors of mind.
Hearken, mind murmers
And get lost
With the way of the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem