I'm not looking anymore for wisdom's roses.
Their keen fragrance no longer seduces me.
Worldly knowledge is but a shadow of the real.
I'm not looking for verdant gardens of beauty.
I'm now searching for something else, hinted
At by profound poetry and art: A frail, yet
Significant light at the centre of dreaming:
That calls me softly from the other side of night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem