It's dots and lines, geometric forms,
a puzzle, a mosaic. On a tabula rasa
letters voiced, unvoiced, magic warms.
It's dots and lines, geometric forms.
The happy parents, admirers swarm
as the child cuts to the chase here.
It's dots and lines, geometric forms,
a puzzle, a mosaic on a tabula rasa
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem