Francis Osho Poet I do not know?

Her Rivers

odore scura de clorofilla
manghi stramature
in potiglia
innamarota di
i fili d'oro
dita vergini interpolano
la gentilezza e un viaggio
attraverso i campi
bruciato  i papavero
che circonda i templi
in rovino
di amore appassionato
i suoi fiumi raggiungono
in profondi
laghi di desideri
sotto la superfici
calma de pace

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Francis Osho July 31, 2016 at 5:56 PM ty marine. this is a translation from my original poem her rivers.it is a woman and a man i guess. poems just comes to me in the moment. i dont plan anything.truy translating your poems to spanish and italian.i know little bit pf both.it improves your lang and also is a short cut to nobel prize. ha ha haaa