praise lies within
the confines of our fences
something beyond this fence
lies
where praise is not a word
it is
so unnecessary
something beyond
us lies this something
waiting
looking
silently, he deserves it
but does not want it
he gives it
but does not want any return of it
he smiles at us
the way we haggle for the stars
when what is perfect
is starless when what is complete
is just
space
what is enough
light
illuminating this lock of hair
and he calls it
perfection
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem