Where has my inspiration gone?
Where is it hiding?
It seems lost in my world
of thought and life.
Where Oh where could it be?
Is it hiding somewhere in this
palette called life? Or is it lost
in the translation of life?
It seems to have disappeared
without a trace and left me with
a mind as blank as the paper one
writes on. It seems I have lost my
inspiration amongst the things of
life. Now all I have to do is unbury it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem