Being a broken vessel, how can I ever mend
What has once been put aside as unneedful, forgotten-
A pass chiseled by harsh winds, a bridge crushed by cruel rains;
I have forgotten every forged implement of knowledge.
Being alone, how can I ever force together
The two farthest poles of being, the past and future,
The known and unknown must repel by their certain difference;
The frequencies of being permit nothing to pass beyond.
When words fail my kind, there is nothing left to hold on to,
All that is left is vibrating molecules and air currents, clear water
That leaves no trace afterwards, clouds vanished into dreams,
Dreams vanquished by bright lights of morning, into perhaps-heavens.
Whatever happens, may you find heaven wherever you come to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem