For a while we think nothing about
we are five and no words
and by consent
silent and sign-less
someone tries to catch the wind-speed
and loose his cap
the sun's on our face is orange and gold
and sweat,
we suck air till our chest pain,
and hold the blood in our brain
and make music of our whistle as we breathe
and do that all over again
and we check if the earth is firm
and grips our shoes
the gorge is deep and cant be reached
and there're no vultures in the clouds,
we hold the brushes
the grass and every craggy rock
and think of nothing
and forget why we began,
later, darkness sits with us
and share our rations
and we spend the sky with tobacco
for tomorrow is another day
and wonder why we began our ascent
and feel the lobes in our ears freeze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem