How are you to be a great poet,
When you've got no inspiration,
You're tired, it's late, and
Night after night your mind runs blank?
How many times have you heard the term, “writer’s block? ”
Recall instead that goddess,
Made into human form right before your eyes,
That girl with whom you spent yesterday morning,
Talking on the grass, warmed all over,
Blessed by an eleven-o’clock summer sun.
Now say it aloud!
No harm in letting world to know,
No shame in the telling,
Your mind’s awake from its midnight torpor!
She’s got it! Beauty and love,
She’s fire, she’s my desire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beauty and love, I like it, thanks.