Spiralling like DNA,
the infinite universe
spills coincidences upon humanity
ancient stargazers
craved constant contact, an order
among disorganized governments
that were puerile compared to the no-limit
spaceships that visited them,
and learned to map the sky
for something to rely on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Inside each of us lies our infinite potential. Outside flows the power of our thoughts.