ahh, i have seen and felt
the words of that poem
that never ends,
the moment
you put the last breath
like death
it simply breathes upon itself
a new life
for another beginning
it shifts its meanings
to another soul
another place
and time
at the other side
of this globe
the reader that glances
only for a while
comes back and asks
am i there?
are you talking to me?
am i part of you?
are we not together in this?
are you myself?
how come that we feel
the same
angst?
the same joys?
this bliss?
and so, the words escape and fly away
like birds and build a nest
on the next tree nearby
where another lonely soul
is taking shelter
in his solitude,
for in truth a good poem
never dies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem