flawless glass,
a wealth of translucent trembling foam,
bulging enigma;
ricocheting naught,
something, all together everything and nothing
whirling whirlwind
Is it God? He cannot be seen
neither can she but-
she moves the dust to paint the world with its dirty shade, arouses tree leaves to trembling
gives nirvana dwellers push for flight
beckons the times
and summons all of life to follow her lead
she who cannot be touched embraced, or captured
she who can only be felt, , her will bending only to her maker's
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem