I sit amid a silent pause
where words flow not into thought
to verse a prose is due
still, still the page does await
eyes drift into another sight
beyond the window to the blossom tree
beautifully calm and eloquent
each flower graces the sun
such beauty touches the soul
to inspire the beginning of a thought
a pause shall pass a poem is due
what shall be written
is already inside of you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
true beauty in these words and a wonderful poem