you live in the clouds
below all these drifters
are the stones
flowers of the earth
children of the
chipped cliffs
we are the progeny
of the rocks
from our cracks
waters flow
thirsts are quenched
and strangers
spread the news about
us: from our hardness
and painless existence
comes out
the softness and kindness
of the waters
of this earth
you shift and gather
somewhere
soundlessly
looking down upon us
in the hardness of
our silenced
existence
you predict weathers
you tell us you own the rain
and the sun
we look forward
adapt to the changes
for one thing
we do not drift and gather
somewhere
still asking for the
correct directions
we are blind
and so we know what is within us
we have no other option
we are the stones
we ask no more
about those questions
neither do we keep those answers
we are here
we do not move
we do not blink
we welcome the moss
we are never tossed....
neighbor cloud
nebulous, oh how infamous
now, tumultuous
fatuous...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem