when wind of change knocks at the door of truth and lies, the sun, the moon and the universe lifts up the order of things in new dimension of aesthetics, new philosophical seed is born with the change.
time awaits time of chamge
call it evolution or revolution or something/nothing/being/doing/having continuum of circularity history of new silence line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem