you know that it simply
is not,
you pause, you think some
more,
you try to figure out what it
really is,
this and that are simply not
that,
you are sure that it is not
that,
but, by then, you must accept
you cannot simply
find it.
it is not here, but you
cannot really point,
you cannot draw it,
you cannot write it,
you cannot say it,
but it is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem