Beautiful stranger,
I saw you worried about life,
Sometimes hiding as a phantom,
In good days, pretending to be
A skillful master of the world.
You're heated by fast-moving sands,
Tied by this adventurous game,
Filled up with visceral impulses,
Each day is a race to complete.
Take the courage to plunge in a purifying storm,
Let the rain come, dismantle your bondage,
The lightning may crack your attachments,
Thunders may discharge your desires,
A cool air may awaken you
From the hypnosis of conditioning,
Of segregation,
Of sheer objectified aliveness.
Let everything slip, pour away
There's nothing to keep, to fetch
When all webs are purged,
A Buddha finally sees his nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem