Tremors run
congestion folds
fears impose
those are the words
now let me start
going to the traveling lands
passing through the different shapes
the offset colours
those others
figments or figures
not quite sure
is it the past
or just seen
just a reflection
or something more
can't make them out
getting closer
closer to what
yet to be seen
maybe the unseen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem