I have no book to take me on a flight
of fantasy tonight, I have no story
book to make a context where I can
escape the feelings in my heart;
no characters imaginary and
lives out of the ordinary
I achieved my goal in truth
translating words material
without the pain of suffering
- no mention of the spiritual;
nothing to preclude me knowing we
bring nothing here at all.
Without empowering refuges to grasp
awakening in thought begetting moral
thought, the grasp of wealth by intellect,
expecting them to pay without our learning
how they’ll earn to pay the costs –
what have we given them – just houses –
Since material wealth without an
understanding of life’s meaning leads
to anti-depressants and mental medicine,
what have we given them? The keys to
our misery it seems; we should judge
their failures as our own...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem