there is nothing to be
envious about that man who has
always something to
say in any place
at anytime
do not think that he is one
species of genius in
another evolution created
by shrinking time
you have mistaken him
for gold
he is just another stone
baked by
many suns
if you look at him closely
there are scars on his wrists
cracks on his lips
leaks on his skin
there is light
but it is more of the hues of
a sunset
i know you have seen
something beautiful
but it is not all, it is just a spot
between his
chin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem