There is
always a
place where
a soul
shall rest.
And you never
have to find it
Or ask
It is the garden
that comes
to you
It is the secret
that opens
itself
When you are
ripe for
it
When the hands of
the clock
finally
touch it
And you shall
smile
and change
into such lightness
to flight
And just like them
You shall never
Think about us again
Or even
Coming back
To our chaos.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem