Sounding and resounding its grind and bump upon the tarmac marking an en-route of the evening. Giving a glance and gaze upon the dark color that draw eyes onto scare and rare. Amidst the diffuse and refuse of the attach and touch of the filter that smoke away and afar. Puffing and having a inhale and hale upon the unraveling of times and seasons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem