Learning the art
of dying, cheating the ghosts,
talking to moon children.
Will you believe in
so much of death? An
octopus darting on sands?
In self-awareness
you look at the vast water.
The lake will accept you.
Aimlessly you want
to drift. A sick feeling takes
revenge and turns you into stone.
Somebody smiles.
Flickers like a candle,
before shutting down the beats.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Learning any art with responsibility is important. Death is truth and learning this art is also excellent...10