The Longitude
Woke up by the stream
of kind nature
I had no recollection
of a past,
this was now, an expanding
presence,
as water rings made
by a stone thrown into a lake,
till it runs out of energy
sinks to the bottom
where other stones that,
used to be mountains rest,
and there is
for the exceptions of
a few commas
unpunctuated stillness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem