These glimering holograms, all fantasy at best,
Here i am undressed before the day my knowing.
I sense the devil flowing, red fork river in streams of consciousness.
I am a fool this day, and still unto the next.
When then shall i find my rest on wisdoms stone?
When then my home within the knowledge of myself?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem