the harp makes me think of gardens of orchids
The lament of the physical world has made me dream of the harp
the imperishable
This dark room made me long for the harp
to caress its strings and awaken syrens
to dance till the end of the chaotic ball
She charms me with her promises
Her retreat, her silver rings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem