My friend
of what i know so much to know
like an inn after the desert, forest, and
the cavern, that listens to the wind
told me where you were
you and whatever mood
i like lightening, and the smiles that i love
i cant give up
now i am more
than a servant of the museum of many pictures
i old a holy grail
tenderly i would like to trat you
and put down my swords
to catch a moment with you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem