The cryogenic morning ray,
Got caught in the heel of her shoes,
Higher than Kilimanjaro,
Thin as a bird's delicate leg.
It whirls in the sticky, thick snow
Unpredictable,
Vibrating clear harmony,
Like the sounds of a Tibetan gong.
It's pale now,
The ray lost it golden body,
It wears only the silver wind,
With turquoise garlands and colored buttons.
The beam touches a wall
With frozen metal statues,
Decorating the grand white windows
Of an artist's studio.
It's an ordinary winter day
For the creative master,
Which fixes his eyes upon the ray
And asks it about her.
But the ray cannot talk to him,
It's muted
As an afternoon on the ocean's bottom,
With magical stones,
Pink fishes and tall plants moving slowly,
Keeping the precious mermaid - his muse,
Away and safe,
Letting him fantasize
About the heels of her red velvet shoes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a wonderful poetry..... Keep it up.... Deserves 10 +++.. I would like you read my poem LET ME RISE too... And express your views... Naila 😃