it is no longer that question
whether one is happy or not
it is a matter of just meeting moments
using the eye
feeling those hands
and then as usual making goodbyes
it is a routine repeating one after the other
meanings rubbing elbows with other elbows
useless chatter empty promises rolling stones
nothing mossy temporary wetness
sunny days cool shades eyeopening
nothing pleading
washing out letting go
social cliches drained brains
broken hearts repairing visions
living more making more beginnings
candle lights and then the pretenses of
so many silences.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem