Tickling interiorly with a magical sense of living, taking
every particle and fiber of the fabric of this being, giving
its expression, meaning and definition in this life.
Exciting, always thrilling pleasure centers of this brain,
causing a vibrant and satisfying feeling of contempt, but
living through it for years.
Winding up and down with rhythms being coded and listened
to while writing, bringing into an interior existence the
mysteries of a lifetime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem