Dreaming of blossoms, throwing their
aromas into winds of my interior rhythm's,
causing a pilgrimage to begin in early
evening, in lands of contemplative mirrors.
Trying to understand explanations of early
languages, assimilating their essences into
stages of beautiful stations.
Whispering lazily upon an ocean wave into
mists of tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem