THERE IS always something
to say,
something that you may not
want to hear
and break the drums
of your ear,
the truths are always covered
and sealed
like pressurized champagne
which when finally
opened
in a surprising bang
bang
all attention is caught
to the scents of life
the smell of vapor from
the pine trees
the sparkles of champagne
on the glass
that you hold tenderly
and slowly
sip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem