Secretly flowing like lava oozing from an active
volcano, covering my mind with mosaics of deepened
grief.
Polishing it severely and guarding many ideas with
beautiful desert vistas.
Visiting briefly, imagination, with their intensity,
as rivers flow over, cooling with their intense
desire, and moving out to ocean's depths at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem