the genius in each of us
lies in the ordinariness of the clothes we wear
and the odinary walk that we take on ordinary lanes
the genius of air, and sunlight, and wind
the one that gets inside us without notice
yet makes everyone live
the one that caresses us without feeling
so important and yet makes us survive
the one that refreshes us in the shores
along ships that we are in
taking us to our destinations
tell me if they have special names and special
functions
the ordinary air, the ordinary sunlight, the ordinary wind
is that not the genius of the earth
the fire, the land, the sky
are they not so ordinary for us to take and use and love?
they are the strokes of the genius of the Lord
and yet they never have names of their own
they are everywhere, they are anywhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem