And I write
And I write of the left and the right
And I write of black and the white
And I write of the dark and alight
And I write…
Of righteous and the wrong
Of decayed and the sound
Of the old and the young
Of the height and cloud
Of the whale to prawn
Of vultures and crow
Forgotten is myself
Closest; so close
Who am I?
Where?
How?
Why?
This I leave to others to have theme in their time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem