Mind is empty
It never touches the vision
Nor the smell
Not the taste
Not for the sound
Not for the perceptions
Yet, it cannot be concentrated though…
Difficult to meditate
Mind never idles though
It’s trapped in enigma
You are right, it canm never be filled, its capacity is infinite. CP
As I start this piece, I find the title means something diffrent to me by the time I reach the end. As if the poem does some sort of twist or dives to a diffrent layer.
I gave this a 9 believe it or not because it was too short. I do not believe any poem should ever end in the word enigma. GW62
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful peom and inspiring.