some people, a very few,
are born in a way,
allowing them to
continually be born...
bearing the seeds of revolution,
far before they know the sound.
becoming ever more conscious,
light revealed before thought dark.
to find that age and time,
bring forth the child again.
and the more time passes,
the more the need to be simple.
returning to the land,
made of original dust!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, everything in life should be taken back to the wood so to speak, it would help us all live the simple life, and enjoy living a bit more without the worry.