Wild dropp of living inside everyone
The flower from appearances feel
Something that’s doubted when gone
Actuality of moments in a time real
Hurrying in conflicting their ways
Windows of flickering inspection
That has been mislaid in the days
Appealing to your sense of perception
Day and night spookily populated
Of crystal balls knowing not all
Broken up ideas and over rated
Toward each other before light’s fall
What is it inside this somewhere?
That has been lost to the very new
Ideas in doubting to its blurts blare
Gossip old chat at all times to do
Bending the sky behind your mind
Cemetery mask pushing its slothful
Directions towards sense you can’t find
Something in column false and dull
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem