i cannot be you
god on high the cliff
you get all the chips
as i just watch
empty handed and seeing
nothing but this
blankness in space
what if i become you?
where will i be?
what happens to me?
i can imagine it
when i become you
i become nothing too
just what happened
precisely to all of
those who get tired of
themselves
ah, the multitude is
just that
a heap of dead leaves
a mass of sand dunes
a pool or creeks
a mound of pebbles
ah, same things same
dusts
all blown by the same
wind....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem