Night is the life of an intense silence
It's stunned, it's cold-
Bedridden-
But still it is-
The disillusioned flow of endless time.
It is Painted with drunken eyes
The canvas of the constellations.
Meanwhile, the sleeping Highways-
Roll on the feet of the extreme drunk
The magical foliage of the night vacillates.
At the crest of submerged silence
Falls down-
Just falls down-
The song of deep secret pain
Of the countless stars
disillusioned attempts get stranded.
The life of a sleeping bird
Only dreams of
The shadows of
The melted dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem