here we will be losing
art, all emotions shut, like
a butterfly caught and then sealed
inside a transparent bottle.
still beautiful but now getting
illogical.
here we are called to be logical,
analytical, everything in suspicion,
all beliefs suspended.
here we are made to be wit the truth
and the truth is silent.
it does not talk, it keeps on seeing
accurately what is there what happened.
here we keep the sea calm. the earth
gentle.the sky emptied of all stars
at night. The sun is steady.
then when everything is put into a lens,
with light, the burning begins and it ends
not that long, until the ash is settled.
then the truth speaks, and it judges.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem