The Troubadour of Broken Souls
everything of life that will become
will nevercease to be
these waving flamboyance of hands,
a dreaming wonderland of songs,
the trouble gatherings of thestorm clouds,
the didactic tongue of the minds jargons,
as the surface sun that rises on,
or a sunken treasureof oceans largesse,
fathoms deep in the probe.
to the sky's altitudes, the heights to Mars,
as the wind rises, as the wave tosses,
life continues to invites the perils,
troubadour for the broken souls
on a short tripto eternity'slong canvas,
will love be enough?
- [ ]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem