Paddling an imaginary canoe down a slow-moving river,
seeing sights of nature on either side, a lifting up
of spirits bringing satisfaction and a spark of joy
in the process.
Above, the moon now taking over for the sun, giving an
eerie sense of magic and mystery to the night, tiring
of paddling, just resting and letting the river take
this poet wherever it flows to in the darkness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem