There is a place before we all take part.
A start a place to sort out thoughts about
the day before tommorrow when it comes.
And where the Heavens end the night before.
And even there before it starts.
The end before begins again the end is found.
Grass is like you soft it's there why I'm around.
And glad that you are of why I'm even here.
Your comet brought it up so white it's wide trail.
And the sun my light is why, you burn so bright.
And there and there is where the month, the end, grows near.
Looking lost one walks past and sidewalks never end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem