How timidly fragile,
The Creative Soul,
The moods,
The ups and downs,
The High Spirits
The Decent,
Painfully, Deeper,
Than All that's apparent.
How Soulfully different,
To desire the sky,
Knowing that Never,
From this earth,
Will you fly,
A still bird,
With broken wings,
Is no longer, itself.
And yet, you Try,
You Try to comply,
To pacify,
To lead a normal existence
But the Creative Spirit,
Invades your Creative Soul,
Night and day,
Day and Night,
With everlasting,
And annoying
Persistence!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That went well with my coffee. Thanks! Brilliant!