it is not human
oh, the ocean of people at the mall
though without waves
can drown us all into
anonymity and oblivion
they are not the choices
of the hour
the isolation amidst
the crowd
the scream that only
the buzzing sound of the
masses
can ignore
there is more to these
books, poetry, history, law
science
the novelties of thought
the lonely flights of thought
deeper
and deeper into the jungles
of truths
you discover what they cannot
find
these responsible crowd of
leaves and
pages
or indexes and
and streams of ideas
long asleep and
never awakened
by the daring
knight
of the isolated self
i imagine sometimes
the purification
of mud into the filters of
sand and pebbles
there is no speech much nobler
that the gushes of
the air and water
and the firmness
of land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem