i who use this mind of mine
does not figure how it works for me
it is inside me, and i am inside it,
we simply are in this, but we cannot figure out
how? i cannot reflect light upon my own light.
i like to trace its labyrinths and find out where
the beginning is and where is its exit
oh, i may be lost and cannot come back
and situate myself at a point again.
i have met walls, sailed its waters,
explored its terrains, heard its echoes
i have traveled its mountains crossed its rivers
but i never really moved
and i really have never traveled away from me.
this is myself, i hold it, but i always slip away
as one wise man puts it, if i doubt, then
i must by all means,
exist.
Look at this matrix, put your finger, feel this spot
It is I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem