What points chasing at the past
when its baggage without a mass
to catch jet leg?
Its only memories, fluid prisons
in which physics
is suspended for myth building
we cannot skip merrily backwards
expecting times track
to reverse her vain symmetry
past is just mind, future is blind
only now is real
a present is our gift of life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem