Solitary windows peering into life, letting loose thoughts
of the universe.
Thoughtfully praying behind closed doors, leading solitary
lives that have never lived before.
Standing, scattered over many horizons, wanton looks, staring -
despising the many tell-tale signs of strife and struggle on
earth.
Whatever cannot be told out loud remains hidden in a cloud of
rumored whisperings.
Many times over, the roads which everyone trod, become muddled
with greed and sloth.
Where in this solitary roving can perfect beings be seen? Only
through the windows of life can anything be sighted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem