Life runs —
in birds, in ducks, in seagulls,
on motorbikes, in cars,
in buses, aeroplanes —
life runs —
in the racecourse,
horse, rider, spectators;
in the playground,
boys, girls, men and women,
life runs
for a little more life,
even in an ambulance —
none knows how long,
that is immaterial,
life runs, runs, runs —
and as I see,
I breathe in oxygen,
more, a little more,
I laugh, I dance,
as life runs
down the lanes and bylanes,
across rivers, oceans,
the eternal sky, the ground,
under, above, everywhere —
life runs,
as long as it can.
Then suddenly,
life stops running —
every run ends
with a heave, a sigh,
that last breath
filling the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem