at 20
i have doubts about you getting into the world
of images, but you have persisted invoking the law
of the leaves and dusts
the pages of the wind you scan
looking for the justifications of your
fate
and every word there
though invisible
has given you the meaning of this
pursuit,
without choice i welcome you
and i am opening this door of emptiness
and you shall enter it
and meet a room that leads you to a bridge
of jagged edges
there the snail with sleepy eyes
shall meet you and serve you a plate of
mongrels of your
past
you will not find it tasty of course
but you shall swallow
bit by bit
because of your hunger
welcome you finally arrive where i am
introducing myself as
a permanent resident
this is the place where we were born
this is the place where we are going to die
it is an empty place it is dark
but be glad
we are serving as light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem