Glancing into picturesque landscapes as I ride
through on an inner train, it's lonely whistle,
echoing feelings within, watching scenery flow
past quickly.
A blur of color and textures, blending so per-
fectly, keeping my mind busy with all of it's
designs and patterns.
Always forming in pictures of thought, a self -
reliant poetical nature, calming and keeping me
in a protective sphere of life as a mere poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem