I want wisdom to burn the pages,
I wish he destroyed me lately;
For my homework was unfinished
And slept for pigeons to secondly pass.
The mystery of a night cancels rhyme,
For the poetry of a life so extravagant
Is full of decisions from a sacred place.
The wisdom is seeing, the wise men stare
At the bridges that are crossed so well by the travellers
And adventurers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem