Tripping in her trip
I don’t want to be here, but
Actually I am not here.where I want to be
Tripping in her eyes
I wish. If I was a small snail shell,
And she is soul and blood.
And the rain showered on us like kisses
Each kisses falling on shell make
Us, close and closer But
Not closer in time and distance
Tripping in her smile
If kisses, time and distance where in a
A same closeness But
But she is not here. Where I want to be.
Tripping in her
Because every trip is not a dream
And every dream is not a trip.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Every trip is not a dream and every dream is not a trip and we struggle whole life endlessly to turn a trip into a dream and a dream into a trip. Perhaps answer is hidden beyond the trip, beyond the dream and beyond the life. Touching poem.
ya soul struggling between trip, dream and reality