the truth is always there
that woman nude lying in bed
waiting for no one
self-sufficient as she is
like the eternal fire of
the sun
the gentle softness of light
that finally lands on
the grass
on early morning
she is eternal
mother of all mothers
her breast with flowing milk
for all the babies
of this universe
in the vast darkness
light pierces every space
travels
without any definite arrivals
departures
not always final
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem