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I wrote my first poetry when I was four years old and published my first book in my 10 years old age. I remember a time when words were coming to me as running water and I was overwhelmed with their sounds, colors and forms. They were sparkling like snowflakes they had colors, tastes and sounds. It was really amazing! I used to see them and feel them like birds, jumping around, watch them, play with them, listen to them, touch them. They were everywhere, in the shelves, under the table, the bed, in the closet, in my pockets, on the branches of trees, among the flowers and inside the wind. They all had forms, weight, height; some words had arms, legs and eyes as well. They were able to see me, they were calling, constantly watching and touching me with there invisible hands and were scrunching up my ears. -Yes, I forgot to mention, that they had long wet fingers and every time they touched me I was feeling huge pressure and great pleasure. An invisible voice and hand was making me write down absolutely everything, it became so necessary to communicate with this invisible spirit. These tiny poems below had been written a long time ago when I was five eight year old. Somehow I decided to translate them and share my childhood’s clearest memories.
This is coming from my childhood. I am longing for it.
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