Discovery
Sit here and stare
At the leaves, branches.
My thought is passenger
Saddles and travels.
Many times, come questions
By asking why, how, where?
Feel I am a condor…
Then, a bag, plastic
After wealthy's shopping,
Thrown out empty.
It acts like masked joker
Or clown, sad, happy.
No word said, in silence
I must read messages
Sent to me by movements.
The show is pantomime
While looking, guess, I find
The meaning via signs.
The leaves are jealous of
The mass of air, people!
Mesmerised, bite index:
"Are you sure heard correct?
Mass of air as people? "
Smile the branches:
"Look at him, the dumbest! "
A leaf with head towards
The patches of clouds:
"Yes, air, too, are people,
Have tribes, and leaders,
Husband, wife, children! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem