At the intergalatic gate,
Thought frees its tentacles,
Unleashing that sensorial imagination,
The body of a new born curls and cries,
Entering a game of Life.
Innocence turns into ignorance soon,
Pureness pretends to have a finite face
Apart from the whole,
Years apparently walking in a timeless garden,
Beyond the sky and earth.
One acts on the scene of myriad things,
But never estranges from the constant void,
Holding and comforting its feet,
Unceasingly watching a universal, sole Heart
Dancing in Emptiness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! I like your third stanza especially the line " Innocence turns into ignorance soon, "