Sometimes its difficoult to live with myself
after years as a ghost
a series of images that sugest so much
the emotional nature
affects the effect of the cause
of disaray and union
and personalities that dominate
the joy
maybe because of the search for money are clumsy because their souls are not at peace and their lives are a nest of vipers
and some trust and love the gods
and really pluck the peach tree
the stars that guide me
to the garden of flowers and incene,
innocence corrupted
fragments
sometimes
thrugh the material world, nurturing my spirit
so it becomes a meteor emmiting light
following the moving clouds, or dancing awkwardly
round a group of ninfs
round a pole
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem