Saddened plight of living, falling over edges of past
recognition, taking all images and burying them beneath
waves of oceanless thoughts.
Penetrating minds as they float upon salted water, made
that way by many tears of sadness, lived in grief and
sorrow.
Where are the tomorrows going to come from?
Settling into a nondescript moment of wonder, unseeing
minds look through eyes of wonder and awe at nothing
in particular, because eyelids have been closed upon
final deathbeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem