It is a strangeness
A drunken wish
From a wine of thought
Washed deep in the mind
A write to be open
To be bare, naked
Vulnerable
A wish to be a poet
To be alive
Through death always
Time is fleeting
But words remain
Written
Read
Spoken
Heard
A wish to be a poet
Is a mad wish made
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem