In the morning it all came back, awake
From the dream, the planet called the earth
The birds chirped among new-born buds
Their colors spoke interminably of dreams
The earth spun eons ago as blazing fire
Its firmament arched over the dreams
I had dreams cozily in my mother.
Atavistic centuries of blinding ignorance
Clouded over mankind’s bloated egos
Where it all began, thinking, thought;
Under our feet was hell let loose
When some billion years I have lived
Without a song, my hair disheveled
Me and microbe being of the same stock.
I had dreams of a magic, a mere thing
Waiting to become a mere thing
Just like a rock of inorganic cells
A few chromosomes carry all memories
Of my primordial world, of giant-sized eggs
You see I have invented a reed bringing forth
The finest smelling finger hole music,
Smelling of oil-lamp flames extinguishing
In ancient temples behind closed doors.
I have invented golden- robed gods smiling
In flower decked finery, with vermilion
On my forehead where it is all written.
I have invented half-burnt corpses flowing,
In flames, on fragrant heaven-promises
This morning the reed vanished abruptly
In the fragrance of the river’s shadows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem