An exhilarating experience;
A sudden drop towards a hard surface;
the tumble at the speed of light;
the dragging and colliding fall; the sudden rush from a goose bumping power,
Yet an excruciating slow depression.
Such is the feeling of death: it is the great anxiety for life. Nothing is without meaning, a soul fully occupied by death cannot treasure any of the faculties of life, because death is a lucid image with motion through out.
I have always felt the great anxiety for life. It was some kind of an insane adventure; a pride of fools - a heaven to the mad. I was always forced to love it and to always love the Christ. I hated my life and I loved death to the beat and to the pause. Above all the known and all the imagined, I loved the Christ above my soul and all the health.
When I was keen on religious deeds, I loved the lord and loved demise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem