One day my sayings grew old, renewing me,
Like the spirit of the pen, listing minor phrases.
It was a modern world living with a modern world;
One night my statements looked backwards
And I saw lights of the visible spectrum, encasing me.
He whose lie sounds too gripping is faster than misers,
His appeal creates a germ or diamond to leap from earth;
An expert will burden the bag of borders, the lines of bridges
Needed to be crossed shall decline, and computers
Reign supreme as objects, magical incantations will cease.
Often the saying of young minds alleviates the mind,
Opening doors of steel like a sword being unsheathed.
They dream, like no other man, like a woman in distress,
To spoil the skyscrapers whose heads are unique
And thrown into the air of supplementary medicine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem