The words of the Absolute roam
Within a field which they cannot describe,
Nevertheless painting worlds of energy,
With the tip of their endless sounds.
The colors of the mind they spread before eyes,
As pigmented liquids turn into feelings and shapes,
And stories are fitted in million cycloramas,
In thick layers of space-time thoughts.
But words carry no essence, other than Emptiness
Their apparent message is void of meaning,
As in the absence of mind, Awareness notices
Its page is sealed and totally silent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A vivid depiction of a world of nothingness / emptiness. A well expressed poem.