Listless, somber, at a loss without rhythmic music at this
poet's beck and call, watching the horizon as people come
and go in this life.
Memorizing their faces and feeling their hearts as they
beat in unison with somber feelings of what might have
been.
Toying with ideas of childhood as our lives get closer
to edges of life, hearts burning with an unkempt desire,
passion calling aloud for a love of souls and beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem