My Peaceful Piece Of Paradise Poem by Farah Taskin

Can one sit for a long time in the scorching heat in summer
Can one lie on a pile of snow in the bone-chilling cold
In much the same way, one cannot stay constantly immersed in the bitter realities of life
One must bob up from reality and breathe
Otherwise, poetry will die under the weight of mechanization
This is why I summon dreams using my imagination
There, I can wander through groves of green olive trees, vineyards, countless flowers and many birds
Where the sweet, soft melody of waterfalls blends with fragrant breezes...
I have no need for Eldorado's gleam
When I hold all the magic that I need in the quiet ripples of my stream