I sift meticulously amidst the clutter
of my rational thought and irrational flutter,
where my hidden fissures of knowledge wind.
Some words organize and flow off the tongue.
Yet so many ideas remain unsung
lost in time in the jumble of my mind.
If I could grasp these elusive tomes,
notes and novels and letters and poems,
perhaps I could write sometime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem