A flame licked at a single domino.
And that single domino fell.
Just that one.
It leaned against the one before it,
and it was held in the air.
But only for a moment.
Soon, every single black-and-white
domino was fallen in the gray dust.
A cloud of Time rested on top.
And a steady hand came.
With a new set of dominoes,
each one a different shade
of gray.
The lint built up.
And this lint was soon on fire;
the flame licked at a single domino.
This domino fell.
As did the others.
But they were replaced as they lay
under the dust of Time.
Black-and-white dominoes
were set above them,
only to be fallen by flames.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem