A little verbage over wine,
Can be so refined.
Yet I must admit,
A loose tongue turned loose.
A heart might remain so open,
While the thoughts might wander aloof.
But where are the true open feelings,
In a heart unecumbered and free.
Somewhere in the depths of a soul in recluse,
Where a moment of clarity and truth,
Might be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem