how well do you know each stone?
there is no dispute to its color, its silence,
its shape. You have taken one inside your room,
and stared at it for long. Its silence captivates you.
Here, silence begins to have a conversation with you.
To another level however, since silence uses not a word,
not a sound, but there is this
ongoing communication.
The stone asks you: why have you chosen me?
You tell it, you have so many things in common
since birth.
you have been stoned.
you are stone.
and so there must be time to know each other much better.
stone to stone.
silence to silence.
hardheadedness to hardheadedness.
hit me the stone screams. hit me.
and so you hit yourself with it thinking that by doing so
you have followed its
pact with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem