On the other part of the greens,
rainbow unlatches the talc of clouds,
a colorful landscape I shoot,
her bodice came out transparent.
It was my youth around my girlfriends
used to snap moments alike, eyeing on the butterfly,
kidnapping all such rain drenched curves.
The clouds turns to rains flooded the memory
streaming over the unforgettable memoirs
that was once ever-clever rafting,
the downpour flooded me.
I do not want to etch neither to sketch
my painting my tears, my dream.
Down the ages, the rains were giggling
I was graphing the greens.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem