I look but don’t see the real world in front of me.
Moments waste away with the details of my day.
Do I have enough? How can I get more stuff?
Can I have another win or fit in one more sin?
When I look I can’t see
What’s important to me.
I worship things and seek pleasure.
I can’t see what I should treasure.
Then a blind man told me, he lost his sight so he could see.
He sees why he conquered grief since his life is all too brief.
He sees that everlasting love is true language from above.
He sees that darkness is for sleeping, not sorrow and weeping.
His spirit senses kindness and thanks to his blindness,
He knows that with vision of heart and mind,
It’s only his eyes that will be blind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem