Life, this moment
Is what I steal from death
This moment is what I am
Otherwise, what am I?
A speck of dust flying aimlessly in the sky of hope?
Or a drop of water infused in the magnanimity of the ocean of dreams?
I am nothing
Without this moment, that I borrow from death
I am nothing
And still I don't understand
I am blind and I am bland
Swelled with pride, dead in sense
I am daft
I don't understand...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
life and death are but one and the same thing.. reflected in the mirror..