Many a day have I pondered
Over the mystery
Called Life and Death.
Yester night on my
Inward eye flashed the truth
That behoves all.
What is life, but
A consciousness of actions
Breath and memories.
And sleep is then,
But, a few hours long
Unconscious rhythmic breathing;
A suspension of consciousness,
Actions and memories
We undergo each day.
Death is then, just,
But a step away-
The dismissal of the
Rhythmic unconscious
Breath of sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem