Falling into spirits of darkness, searching for the
absence of light.
Finding it hiding beneath the aspirations of this
morning's sun.
Developing and forming sequences of another plain
as many ideas conform to those of yesterday.
Nothing else can ever become the essence of their
beings.
For a missing ingredient cannot be found except
through spirits of the night.
Taking them always into depths of another moment in
the future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Except through spirits of the night. Nice piece of work.