It is as if it is a deep golden dream,
one flap, a tent of yellow silk.
And when the sun is with it,
is it highest fresh and full.
Each fall of morning dew and
all contained therein, good-bye.
Of such kind face;
sweet breeze, how it gently fills the air.
And its main role with firm support,
it seeks the cover, of warm sky.
And means renewed assurance,
as it tugs and pulls the heart..
It seems that if I owe it
and if anything at all
to 'I' it owes,
then too hurry up, thus free it'
with a simple knot of truth,
held off, it tied now gone.
But be you seeking,
held now and by within it's loving hands,
is loosely bound,
by each silk tie of love and thought,
you hold it back, for only one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem