Somersaulting in my mind, light, careful,
peaceful, away from life.
Alone, it is so wonderful to be in a mind of
ingenuity and no purpose, save that of writing
poetry into days of future eternal destinies.
Always teetering on new levels and dimensions,
flipping and flying into depths of thoughts,
silent and enticing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem