Splattered colors travel in my mind
Crooked images design my vision
Watery skies pour heavily into my heart
Sleeps from times ago fill my eyes
I gaze at moving stars with goggled spirit
Night drapes my farraginous expectations
I speak with the ghosts that haunt my nights
And dance with the spirits that shrine my days
Scenes of horrid rides in torrid lands red in blood
I bowing read the winds that drink my soul
Cry in silence over the wicket and the bowl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem