</></>Many shades short of suspicion
even as pound to ounce;
Something beyond impression
firmer than a hunch
is Instinct, the heart's trellis climbing.
Instinct, among
the heartstrings hung
not capillary, nerve,
telling us with reason 'good'
who'll outlive us, who we'll outlive,
who cherish the rest of life,
who see never again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great poem.....so instinctual...smiles....