wisdom is rumored to have many
beginnings,
subject to so much interpretations
is this: that fear is the beginning of wisdom,
that fear of God
that fear of one who loves you so much
and whom you want to love but you
for so many times
failed,
that to some however, the beginning of wisdom is wonder.
and so at night
you walk outside the house of your dreams and you
gaze at the stars
and you are lost and you stumble and you hit your head upon a rock
and you are bleeding
that fear of God, that wonder that makes you bleed,
perhaps.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i'm fascinated by this poem, but i ashamedly i say i don't fully understand your poem. but please write to me and make me understand.