Thought-moths of the Imagination drift
As sifted wishes slip, thistledown-thin,
In slim rafts down the river of inspiration.
Pictures of imagery flitter skittishly
In and out, out and in, instantaneously
Appearing and vanishing till whisked
Briskly away by a sniff of uncertainty.
Slim-winged, iridescent imagoes,
Fully-formed from the chrysalises
Of intense concentration, waft softly
Up to the inviting light of day,
There to be snuffed out, as they
Are burnt to a crisp in the candle of reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I loved your poem I think it is beautiful from luke