I stepped down to the underworld, wading through a humid smoke…
I chased cold wafts of the wind, all the words they broadly spoke.
And I chose to walk in darkness - I'd been cursed to get no light.
Barefoot, stripped of everything, I just walked towards the night…
In the underworld I searched for an old love's sweet beginning,
all its clues withdrawn by force and its warmth full of meaning…
And I carried in my arms broken pebbles of the past
which had bound two hearts and minds in hope they'd ever last…
I had talked to cold, mute magma, sleeping by the earthly core,
in return I'd heard an echo of my own steps, nothing more…
Accidently, when I stumbled, I leaned against a rock's cold face
and my fingers begun to read the whole story of the place…
Tracing incised, ancient signs, I had learned love's not a myth,
its dimensions were far more than a height, length, and width…
So I dived into the depth of the wise, mysterious gaze
which I'd feel underneath my skin as it'd spin around for years…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem