if i write, as, when i write
these words, and signs, of my time,
are sums of complexities,
known only,
to the depths of my mind-
which, though having said,
will no more say it the same.
i've seen depths unknown,
in the bright of the sun
and the grip of darkness
which, though I say it now,
I will no more recall,
like the laughter of a child.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am impressed. There is a wide world in the heart of the poet that is infinite.