Creative juices flowing like hot lava, oozing talent that's
innate and languishing comfortably within mind and intellect,
taking lightly, this heart into and out of various atmospheres
of joy, happiness, sorrow, sadness and grief.
Not allowing this mind to dwell for very long in anyone of
them, enabling this mind to touch upon each while writing
poetry, then going immediately onto the next topic for that
is the way this intellect works faster.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem