Red, though,
It is not blood.
Living, though,
You are not alive.
Singing, though,
You are not pleased.
Appearing, though,
Doing nothing.
Saying - it is
Ever-existing has
No meaning.
Everywhere, find
Enemies and in all works,
They are obstructing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem