we always want a well full of water
like a glass to its brim
there is more beauty somehow
to a well running out of water
the hollowness beneath
the sound of the wind
filling its emptiness
much different than the dripping
of the rain
from a rooftop
where one may feel so safe inside
the darkness of the bottom
the dryness of the soil
beneath
it is in there that some real voices speak
the one that you have not
heard
they are so deep and real that they cannot
refuse to tell you the truth
it is like someone is moaning
and you feel that you are one of them seeking
the voice of God
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem