Being swept away on clouds scurrying across patterns
of interior thought, destiny falling and awaiting it's
frivolous moment, setting free creativeness of
imagination to reap benefits of the soul hidden quietly
within.
Resting in peaceful notions and gentle reminders of
friends known quite some time ago, whiling away the hours
until dawn, securing alone, the knowledge kept inside.
Always kept from prying eyes bent on destroying what
is good in another, watching with care, the beauty of
intellectual premises, conquering those of evil intuition.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem