I see into the curve of life,
Its intricate shadows are my shadows
And the lives we lead seem
To butcher the makers of shadows.
I see them doze and listen,
With rampaging legs and arms,
So clever are the words they
Leave behind in speech.
I seize the entrances to castles,
The mounds are deeply followed,
With entrails around I question the life
That we lead and take fright.
My living is my worshipped one,
Too many limbs are too many facets
Of the mysterious spirit,
For the intelligence of my soul is in flight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem