Years come and go, rejoicing
the beginnings and ends.
All good hearts touch them
with prayers.
On some sunny January morning
I wonder about the Time which
never began, and is endless
though we cut-out years, months
to feel easy and busy.
Lives flutter in it's vacuum
and croon their songs.
And in the morning sun
of January I suddenly find
some unmoved moments holding
un-aged self, like a stranger
confronting me to sing my song.
Now...what a realisation!
at once I was everywhere
in all good hearts singing
prayers for me, not letting
me aside in the morning sun
of January
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem