I walk upon this ground,
Existing, helplessly.
I may only be a sound,
Maybe, probably.
I could have known,
The scintillating light I see,
Made me, sown.
But all I could say, probably.
I observe, not interact.
That was eternity's fee.
I conserve, life's pact.
That's still a "probably"
Squalls never to brew,
Curiosity, never to see.
Life a colorless hue,
Maybe, probably
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem