Life leads us through the open door of death.
when leaves once filled the tree above your head.
Leaves and moss,
twin beards to us to be the other one you have to be.
Go you do not know, but are free to touch and see,
the hand has not been able
to forever withstand your coming when you come I go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem