Sometimes it’s hard to tell
when creativity will know you well.
Sometimes it’s hard to know
when the shining light
will take its hold.
When will this spirit
rebirth?
When will the fire
begin to grow,
take its flight
and soar the roads,
sprout its roots
for beauty profound,
sometimes this life
has its creative bounds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem