Flowering patterns flowing across material, flowing above stairs of necessity.
Tantalizing enduring moments, adjusted to non-ending seconds in revolving areas of life, beckoning to those from the other side.
Listening exactly to notes of experience, trying them in ordinary circumstances, proclaiming extraordinary pieces of little known information.
Taking stands against untidy hopes left on the asphalt of unnecessary positions.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem