The river flows
Carrying vivid depictions of incandescence and gloom
Ceaseless and unhesitant in nature
The rushing water never slows
Nor does it accelerate
Even in the sharpest meanders
Or the widest canals
It pours at a constant celerity
Tumbles over jagged rocks and towering cliffs without
Concern or reluctancy
Those who cannot keep up
Are left far behind
To dwell deep in a mangled reality
No matter how desperate their lamentations
It continues forward
All perceive the river differently
Some see it as abrupt and violently virulent
They are devoured by the midnight murkiness
Devoid of promises
Others see a Utopia of crystal fluid that glimmers
In the prevalent sunlight
Some wish to push forward, some want to stay behind
But their yearnings are hopeless mutterings
The river flows
Until its captive reaches their final destination
A great still ocean
Barren of radiance or penumbrae
Where beauty and darkness ultimately converge
and conquer for all eternity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem