there is something absurd
that keeps on going inside us
this constant craving for what
we do not know yet we claim we want
we feel the need and yet we cannot
really touch it and when we touch it
it gets so painful and we step a foot
backward and then we ponder and
then we go forward we first dislike
it and then we touch it again
there is this feeling that we cannot
describe with the word that we know
it is elating and elevating us one
stair up and then the winds carry us
we do not know what nowhere is
but it is there, it is there, it is....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem