the isolation finally makes
him thrive
he lets go of all those unnecessary parts
of him
he is pure soul now
traversing
another matrix
looking back from the
thick glass wall
that division that separates him
away from its
origin
he makes the comparison
of these two worlds
now with his ephemeral nature
he finds a new home
there is no language
no culture
he is not yet sure
not having mastered
this recent contention
for one thing
he has no feelings anymore
but only reason
it is like a painting
hanging in the air
glossy in the colors of
illusions
there is no more waking
neither sleeping....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem