From The Real Constantly Comes Poem by Mohammad Younus
From The Real Constantly Comes
From the real constantly comes,
The sound of a flute;
The flute is not made of the reed;
The flutist is himself,
The listener of his own flute;
He sips the flute-music like wine;
He flutes more and more,
And sips the music more;
Until he is fully drunk;
He starts to fall into the high clear silence,
And forgets all images and impressions of duality.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/1/2026 4:39:12 AM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
