Search not,
Fools are there
To search,
Not knowing
The end
And the means.
How can one find
The real thing?
But avoid not
Anything.
Collect all,
See and discover
What are there,
And know
How they are
And what for
They are here.
And see and
Observe how
Everything is
Taking place,
So nice,
So automatic.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem