if you think that we understand
our suffering
then you are absolutely wrong
our brains float and we do not know
what make it so
our rooms fly away and we do not see
their wings
our worlds fall and crash
and we feel
the impact
we struggle
we like to take our eyes
pluck them from
their sockets
so that we can see the world
outside our
from our own
blindness
we have blackouts
sometimes all our lines are cut
from our pulsating network
of veins
our hearts are constantly
quashed
broken
we devise poetry
to explain all these
and what we have
are mere glimpses
of our
opaque universe
sometimes flashes of images
like stars
offer an explanation
they glitter and what we have
is simply
wonder
we walk our nights
with our eyes fixed
upon those stars
the rocks along the way
make us stumble
we have bruises
we suffer all day
time will tell
if our self proclaimed
greatness
can be a matter
of justice
or perhaps it is love's way
of loving
us
we who are crushed
in pain
and nameless
in the history of time
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem