Where does my gaze meet the sky?
At the trees, clouds, the stars up high;
and what are they all to the back of my eye?
Looking out, looking up, what truth could I find;
what if there's something, something inside?
Where would my gaze meet my mind?
At my nerves, brain, or things of that kind;
and what are they all, why does the answer hide?
Looking in, looking down, what will I find;
what if there's nothing, nothing inside?
- Samuel Richard Leonard
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem