I see my deaths.
i see my impermanence.
i see my inconvenience.
i see my sufferings.
i see my optismistic wisdom.
i see my empriness of no self moments.
i see my nothingness.
i see my paranothingness.
i see my anatessa, dukkha and amatta.
i also seey metta and compassion.
i see my emptiness pf no selfdirected existence.
a lotus in the pond over which a bamboo bridge where 87-years old monk is walking over
at the foot of haymalayyas mountain
somewhere deep in the haymalayyas forest
a silence of distilled wisdom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem