we are there
we just don't want to
talk about it
we keep on flowing
like any river
the boatmen
and their ladies
how can they ever
recognize us?
they're having their
parties too
under the moon
upon the cold nights
of their
own preoccupations
what have they
become
we too ask
waters are uniform
so they know how to hide
incognito like all of us
there is no specific
face to all that is happening
to all
if we spill
and move to the opposite direction
we become all
too different
they must never know
the pain of being a river
of being plain water
oh, they know
their own pains too
and we know how to act
not feeling them
we're here
how can we tell them?
show the bubbles
let the image of a celebration
be seen
on both banks of this
iconic world
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem