Silken ebony flying through the heavens, no boundaries
in sight.
Gliding freedom, gathering serenity in a sanctuary above
everything, thoughts floating upon the gentle tides of
wind.
Conquesting various moments, placing them in urns of clay
to be broken open one sad autumn day.
Livid memories stored carefully away, preciously guarded
so not one will befall disaster before their time is due.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem