Translation Needed She doesn’t speak in words,this inner voice of mine.She takes the long way ’round,the scenic route. She leads me through forests dressed in moonlight,and past fields of dark-eyed flowers.She comes from a land of feathered treesand heart-shaped butterflies. I speak to her in the simplest sentences,subject-verb-object.She answers in riddled landscapes.I don’t know what we mean,but I bet she does. See other impressions on Inner Voice.