Mirrors of reflection are turning interior lights on high,
illuminating insides of every insight.
At last complete, staying on side lines, never turning
away, blindly following tracks of everything being traced
on mirrors of another reflection in the past.
Alone without anyone else to contend with on this plain or
any other as long as I'm on earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem