Though in death, we may know darkness
But in light, does shining kill?
Just as a mother bird does not know
which child will fly.
In years of giving and giving up
Does what its sacrifice for
Really worth the blinding sights?
Only foolish I may say
That you are right.
Its through that exhaustion forcing shadow
That you may see light in that room
Painted black.
So,
Does being a sacred stream’s light reflection
Show
What is at the bottom of the ocean?
But If I tell you
No
There is no way
I can be right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem