Poems steal away my sleep.
And at midday I fall asleep
under the beautiful leaves
of a benevolent tree.
I dream of birds
with golden feathers
flying down into my soul.
They enter into the innermost recesses
and find my secret store
of melancholic songs.
And the small birds
found me with my songs
In my inner core
and asked me to sing.
And I woke and smiled again.
Birds of golden feathers ask you to sing................. very poetic imagination. you are soft and fine
you sit in your inner core with your melancholic songs. and you were asked to sing. you woke up and smiled.. nice emotions
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very poetic write that stirs the heart alive. Poetry comes to us like birds.