If I remain flickering like a light bulb during the night,
know that the moon has descended in my region.
If I twist and turn towards the number of my mysterious ages,
know that I've already lingered way before in those eras,
wandering in the cosmos in my deepest forms,
for I don't belong to anyone,
even to the droplets of rain that enter my open pores.
I am unknown, and as unknown as I remain my riddles have been decoded before,
but now, even to those who seek me,