it is not the body
that we laundry
it is not the body
but the soul
that we purify
it is not the body
that you can
prepare like washed
dishes for your
next dinner
it is not the print
on the paper
but the thought
it is the dream and
not the sleep
it is the grasp of the
the divine
not the hold of something
bovine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem