A gardener starving for knowledge;
as he began to indulge his desire,
the body's lamp opened its eyes and
released a dim light into his soul.
This was the birth of all exiles and
wandering. The axe lies at the root
of our foundation. We are one out of
many branches of a mourning tree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This was the birth of all exiles and wandering. The axe lies at the root of our foundation. Very original way of presentation. tony