Meanings do not accrue
They happen on the side
Away from the world’s center
There is no fear of uncertainty,
Of not being able to cope.
The metaphors sound clichéd
In the world’s understood
Something much deeper
Comes out of the tranquil eyes
That brimmed with meaning
We laugh all the time, here,
In the parks, under the trees
We do not understand the world
Our talk comes from the medulla
Our thinking is under the ribs
A transition from the concrete
To a fuzzy laughter-filled world
We stopped crying long ago.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem