Thought is breeze
omnipresent
till feelers are there.
Time has ebb and tide
for some careful and careless,
in any case- it flows like blood.
The world has two halves,
they clash at times,
but the revolution is eternal.
God is not dead,
never born, never appears,
only surrounds like body- skin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem