i have tasted it
it is bland
i see it
it is not what i
expect
there must be something
more
i just feel it
there must be something
much much better
i have touched it
it does not really matter
i am dishonest i do not tell you
i am too in this
groping and hoping
at night imagining what could
be best
tomorrow or the next and the next
something beyond
something i am sure which is not
yet here
i have not even told myself yet
for i do not have it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem