Time is gone... And you flood as a river
Through the valleys of Nothing and Never...
And you wish there a fun, and you wish there a feeling...
Nothing, Never is only a pleasure...
Take the drop from the water of Leta...
It is small, small to size of the point...
Small is point, and dark... You can see that, whenever,
Point - is to be marked at first...
And then a cross from the point to the real world...
Look - to north, south, to east and to west...
And again you feel the heart beating, and more
Again you can breathe with your breast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem