Nothing to say to anyone, just tired of speaking, no one
ever listens anyway,
Taking all thoughts and holding onto them, placing them
in sacred places of intellect to be written from later on.
Putting them into poetical compositions where I can savor
and enlist them interiorly, constantly watching, listening
to what it is I have written.
Just trying to complete many books of literature for future
generations.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem