We speak with words,
And let the best we should receive...
Be those words to go unheard.
We wish to be clear and precise,
With a calm exterior.
But a distrust with us occupies the interior.
And within some searching minds,
Is found a definition of peace.
Attachments become dramatically left...
To be released for an immediate increase,
Of a fresh air to breathe!
There is a sense that commences,
A beginning we can not do without.
This sense with us commences,
And we are prepared to cut away from doubt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem