Strapping a blindfold across my mind, not wanting to see
what thoughts are lurking there behind my eyelids.
Steadily sneaking away, trying to leave it all behind.
Transpiring elements are standing up and blocking the way.
Transfixing patterns, alternating their ideals, as I toss
them out of their boxes.
Sanctioned beyond elevation of hope, intellect intersects
with an effusive imagination, taking me along with it into
a maze of intense priorities.
Taking time, allowing every beat to be transposed into a
formula for a poetical melody.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem