Stationing signs of poetry into musical interludes,
traipsing and wandering into realms of another world,
cold and forlorn.
Beginning a votive canticle that won't move into the
scenery, wanting to be prepared and nourished through
an inner nature.
Coming from an innate talent of possibilities, nothing
interfering, seeing things more clearly than ever before,
rhythms steadying notes and tempos religiously.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem