Conscious on 1,2,3
Zero won't comfort me
Further, still a race
A baton for us to pass
Not with guns to replace
A place, free from pause
Calm thoughts all take form
Mental elevations levitating
Tables and Cars
Civilizations amongst Stars
Far vast than this setting of Earth
Walking to a mustang, power to court
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem