I meet his light in certain books,
The one who taught me how to think,
Underneath the reasonable orchard,
Facing a dignified approach to the road.
One is straight about matters concerning
The late evening, forcing a laughter until
A dawn shakes the soul that is eloquent,
That it speaks to the wild nature and truly reflects.
The effort of the sun and moon is stronger than
Real life, for death resounds in the heavens,
For death brings life to the everliving, the souls
Who wait and stay behind for a while that tempts them.
I meet his light in books, that think and wink,
Creating a chemical so burning in my eyes,
So much is the intensity of the secret light,
Too much is the weight on the just mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem