(Flying on to my roof i wrote this wandering poem..)
Upon my roof...
Houses of cliff greeted with dew...
the heaven of clouds lighting a candle...
Waking up the creator of light...
Looking down...
The dogs laugh with solitude...
The wind plays with my paper...
Life seem in harmony...
But why is my eyes looking over the horizon? ..
When, the trees stands still...
And the wind coughs at it's leafs..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem