there are codes
to every mystery
the code of yellow
and the sun
the black mantle of
the night
the greenness in the
peace of grass
the grating discontent
of the pebbles
that you smash
yet we wish upon
an awe
our nerves jump for
amazement
for what we do not
understand yet
for what we refuse to
know
if we know these all
then what?
the boredom to a long
journey
without a view on what
is outside
our cars and trains
shall surely
kill us
so soon without parting
let my innocence prevail
let me not accept the gift of fire
let no Cassandra meet me
i like it when
i am there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem