one who sleeps on the floor
cannot fall,
in the morning one wakes up
with thirst, the one
that even you drinking
water and wine
in dreams
never gets satisfied, there is
this hunger that continues
to be hungry, that no
bread in breakfast
or bacon or scrambled egg
can satiate,
there is this soul that you cannot
touch, but
gives you that feeling of you being here
and yet not really here
as though your one foot is in the ocean
and the other
is on the mountain trail
always looking for the
right way to finally find what you are really seeking...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem