I have traveled far and wide
The road sun-lit along the isles
I have kept my own style counsel
In the garden I have walked
I have talked and talked
I return to my hometown away
From all the stilted pretenses
To take the bull by the horns
In speed, time and space we build
Bootstrapping my art to my folks
It's about time, we present, I guess
The roman numerals, new doors
In the window of opportunity
We don't need to wing it
To our freedom, this birdsong
We turn our hand to this music
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem