All the streets lead to the sacred temple
Built by the town’s flesh and bones,
Its spirit, the blood of life freely given.
The secret is tabernacled here
That holds the circle like calling
In a bell. The mystery hints echoes
Like oracular parables of the mind:
There is no choice but to struggle and hope.
Thus, for a moment, being is searching
For some answers here to some questions,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem