If only I could give myself
To the fine wind,
That takes its course
through the chaos of the world,
airy as a feather
agile as a dust.
Only if I let it bear me,
Sweep me of my feet.
If only I could give myself
to the crested wave
that rolls through the raging sea,
slick as a seal
Smooth as silk.
Only if I could give myself,
To the burning fire
With golden flicks,
of flaring arms,
Light me to ashes.
Then only then
shall I be woken
and on my way again..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem