Silently shine and sparkle the mind
No mourn of morns no trace of thorns
Forsaken flowers flickering free
The mind’s its own destiny
The beam sounds like light beat
The stream rushes in strong
Like streets leading to one street
Just to avoid the dead end throng
Of voices whispering death hushed alone
Turning the music into frozen stone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem