I cannot conceal my whisper
In me it roams wildly
Keeping my equanimity distant.
My young whispers I cannot confine
meandering they are, in me feral.
Subsist I come to again
Yet for now I cannot institute.
Loneliness becomes adaptive
The heart nothing hordes
A room made for emptiness
Bursting with zeal
My whisper, forth ready amid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem