Before there was metre or rhyme.
There was you.
And in you there was this burning need.
Art of the written word.
Some could not dream in colors.
Waking up in a dream I slept.
I did not offend reason, dawn is day.
A symphony rearranged, dusk we pray.
Kings and Queen's went out of there way,
to understand why what was said, you heard.
Hold my hand, you I kissed.
Straight is the line stars I miss.
Back in such times when by a child, learned to think.
The haiku, to express, all that you learned, our thoughts.
Love has flown, love has come back.
Wake up my love go to sleep never my love weep for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem