Left in the corner,
in a room of nothingness
its many drawers remain
unopened,
forgotten by time.
Hidden in the back
of tiniest compartment
barely identifiable at first
covered in the dust
of a thousand nights;
a jewel glistens now
in his searching hand
washed by his own tears.
At long last
he has found himself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem