a poet is beyond good and evil.
he is here and feels it here.
he merely describes the situation
gives the details, paints the picture
of his world, and says nothing about
it in return.
he does judge he simply narrates
what happened.
he tells the truth but not all.
he keeps what is private to him
and takes them to his grave.
he is the worshiper of silence
and in his kingdom of solitude
he dwells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem